Completeness
by G.E Waldo
Summary: Rodney's bisexuality is "outed" in a most malicious way, putting his career on the line.
1. Chapter 1

**Completeness**

GeeLady/GE Waldo

Rating: Adult, violence, McKay and Sheppard emo-whump!

Pairing: McKay/OMC. _**Not**_ McShepp but slightly McSheppie-ish.

Summary: Rodney's bisexuality is "outed" in a most malicious way, putting his career on the line.

XXX

_This_ was the unexpected pleasure. Not the delightfully wicked physical ministrations and delights brought to bear upon his naked flesh, although those were far and away one of the marvelous benefits about this, and not even the mind-blowing climax soon to come, but the_ closeness_, the sharing of souls and minds, being _this_ tightly connected to another human being; something he had not experienced...ever in his memory.

Doctor Rodney McKay, so used to the mental aspect of living and interacting with colleagues, not so often had he felt the physical side of human relationships, or even the heart-felt. One or two close encounters at McGill, one more at MIT and, since coming to Atlantis, nothing.

After they were spent and had cleaned themselves off, his younger loved rolled off him and lay on his side, draping one naturally muscled arm over his own not-quite-as-naturally-toned chest. Rodney tucked one hand behind his head. "What do you see in someone like me anyway? I'm almost old enough to be your dad."

His lover chuckled. "_This_ again? You're only old enough to be my dad if you'd knocked up at girl at _fourteen_. Did you knock up a girl at fourteen?"

"Of course not, but -"

"Then we're good. What the hell difference does a few years make anyway? I _love_ fucking you, Rodney, so stop complaining."

But Rodney needed to know. It was a fault or a blessing, depending on the urgency of the situation. "I'm not complaining, I just wondered." He knew he wasn't a handsome romantic figure, unless numbers and ancient tech' was somehow handsome and romantic, and he recognised that he didn't have refined looks or an Adonis-like body. He used to lie to himself about both but then John Sheppard had stepped into his life and dashed all previously held illusions. That day he had seen the near perfect physical male specimen, and it was not the man in the mirror looking back. "I mean, you're twenty-two. I'm thirty-_seven_. There are plenty of younger, better looking men around, Alec, why _me_?"

His lover tilted his head back to look up at him with exasperation and Rodney once again admired the soft brown eyes, the buzzed brunette hair and the fallow-coloured skin of someone whose origins suggested the South Pacific. "_None_ of those other men are Rodney McKay."

He began laying tiny kisses on Rodney's pale chest. "Look, sex isn't just about two bodies rubbing together, as fun and hot and _dirty_ as that is, it's about me _doing_ the Great Rodney McKay – I find it extremely kinky to fuck you cross-eyed every night. Anybody can fuck a horny young stud, they can't get enough and they suck at sex - and not the _good_ kind of sucking, but banging the head of the Science Department of Atlantis? – That's a rare opportunity. You're... _special, _Rodney_,_ you know? Call me a sucker for brains but I like brains_ and_ cock, especially your swollen, respectably sized cock that likes me back. Is that clear enough? Satisfied?"

Rodney heard the words but his heart felt its habitual misgivings. Lessons learned over half a life-time said he was not special, at least not to either sex and he was finding it difficult to shed that self perception, no matter how warped. Too many years of reinforcement had shored it up by relationships on the verge of showing _signs_ of getting off the ground just to see potential lovers change their minds and walk away.

For friends and lovers most of the time he was too much trouble and he knew it. The problem was he could not change no matter how hard he tried. And people were confusing. Apparently truth in relationships was not as appreciated as the magazines would have you believe. People seemed often to prefer lies said in the heat of nightly passion over loving honesty spoken in the daylight.

Rodney preferred honesty. It was respectful and, in the long run, easier on his conscience.

XXX

Sheppard caught up with Ronan and Teyla in the gymnasium. "You here to spar?" Ronan asked, always ready for a good session of kicking his commander's ass all over the gym.

"Uh, no, not right now, I've been looking for Rodney. He's not in his quarters or his lab _or_ the mess."

"Hm." Ronan nodded to Teyla who took up her fighting stance, her hard as iron sticks raised in preparation to defend herself. Teyla, despite being half Ronan's size and weight, was equal to him in skill and the bruises that showed up on Ronan on a regular basis proved it. "It's a fair bet he'd be in one of those places." Ronan remarked and then turned his attention to the match, dismissing any more thought of McKay to focus his attention on not getting thoroughly whipped.

Teyla paused before taking her first strike and said to Sheppard "I have heard he is spending quite some time exploring the city with his new science student. Perhaps Rodney is with him?"

"New student?" Sheppard hadn't noticed. A long line of science department faces came and went on a regular basis, the SGC rotating them in and out every six months or so, all sent to learn under Rodney and Zelenka. He had stopped trying to remember their names a long time ago because there was no point in getting to know someone with whom you hardly ever had an occasion to talk, and because there was just too damn many of them. "It's that time again huh?"

Teyla nodded. "I believe so. They have been spending much time together."

Sheppard was almost bowled over. "They _have_?" Could Rodney have actually managed to temporarily overcome his hostility to all humans and in fact made a new friend?

"Yes." Teyla nodded to Ronan and the match began in earnest.

Sheppard left the two to their clacking sticks and called Rodney over his comm.-link. "Rodney, where are you? We were supposed to meet to go over tomorrow's mission." Not exactly true but if the scientist was avoiding him, or had a new friend that he didn't know about, as his commander he needed to know these things. Truthfully the news that Rodney might have a new friend that he didn't know about was...unsettling, and a little weird. Barring a new laptop with the latest hard-drive in his memory since knowing the guy Rodney didn't make new friends.

_Ever._

After a moment Rodney answered "Um, Sheppard...right." He sounded slightly out of breath. Had he taken up _jogging_ too? "We were? I thought that was later today?"

It was but Sheppard's curiosity was peaked now. Did Rodney have a new_ jogging_ friend? On the whole it was good news, the guy was a social hermit, and a new friend was a very good thing, especially if said new friend was getting the genius moving his body once in a while instead of only his mind. On the other hand, why had Ronan and Teyla knew about this and not him? "Uh can we meet? Where are you anyway?"

Sheppard swore he heard someone giggle as Rodney answered "Well, I'm kind of busy right now. Can't this wait until this afternoon? We've just discovered a new storage room and it has some storage bins in it we'd like to open."

Another chortle sounded in the background and Sheppard frowned. What the hell was going on? "McKay you know you're supposed to have a team of least two soldiers as protection during one of these Atlantis explorations of yours. You know you have a habit of stumbling upon things that almost get you killed, remember?"

Rodney sounded annoyed now. "We're _fine_, and we're almost done anyway. I'll talk to you later - Rodney out."

Sheppard tried calling him again, this time getting nothing but static.

XXX

Alec pushed him up against one of the large, empty crates and devoured his mouth with his own, laughing as Rodney tried to talk to his commanding officer through the string of wet, hungry kisses. "Your Sheppard is one uptight dude."

Rodney removed the comm.-link from his ear and tucked it away in his pocket. "Sheppard's all right, he just worries too much."

"Oh? Is he all worried for you, you think? Doesn't like sharing you? Wants your gorgeous ass all to himself?"

"Don't be stupid, Sheppard's hetero all the way. If he knew about this, he'd-"

Alec pulled his head back a little and stared into his lover's bright eyes. "He'd what? Is he a total homophobe or something?"

"No, he would be okay with it, probably, but the outfit he works for, and that _I_ work for, you know the U.S. military, those people terrified of anything different, would _not_ be okay with it." Rodney stared back. "So this has to stay between us, okay? I mean we can't let anyone find out."

Alec smiled and closed the gap between their lips again. "No problem, boss, just so long as I get to "open your storage box" as much as I want while I'm here." He took Rodney's mouth once more with his own, slipping his hands up beneath his shirt and tickling his rib cage, making Rodney jump. Alec asked "Is that door locked?"

Rodney shook his head. "Just a second..." With his artificial ancient gene he _thought_ the door locked and after a few seconds they both heard it activate. "There," he said. "We're good."

Alec smiled. "That is _so_ fucking cool. Now, take all of your clothes off, _Doctor_ McKay."

XXX

Sheppard found Weir and Teyla seated with Ronan, enjoying lunch. Sheppard put his own tray down and took a chair. Today's lunch was a weekly special – steak sandwich, a meal that as long as he was not off-world on a mission he never missed. One Rodney never missed either. It was his _favorite_. "Where's McKay?"

Teyla shook her head. "I have not seen Doctor McKay." Weir cut off another succulent piece of Grade-A beef and chewed it with satisfaction, just shaking her head.

Ronan did the same, already chow-ing down on a substantially larger piece and not wanting to open his mouth to speak while chewing because the humans frowned on it. Sheppard noticed a second steak sandwich on the Satedan's tray.

Teyla volunteered "I did see Doctor McKay with his young assistant Alec Burgess this morning." She exchanged glances with Elizabeth Weir, who merely smiled mysteriously back and continued her meal.

Sheppard was certain he had missed something in the silent exchange between the two women. "What?"

Teyla raised her eyebrows as though at a mystery. "Nothing."

Weir shrugged and spread her hands, though she did pass another tiny smile over to Teyla.

Now Sheppard knew something was up. "Okay, what's going on? What's with the conspiracy of grins happening here?"

Teyla wiped her mouth. "It's nothing, John, but I believe Rodney has made himself a new friend."

_Ah ha!_ Sheppard almost let the mental slip make it onto his features. He cleared his throat. "Oh? Well, that's...a good thing I guess."

Weir asked "You _guess_?"

"It's good," He said for emphasis. "It's good. A new friend is good."

Ronan stopped chewing for a moment and then said to the two women "He's jealous."

Ignoring the accusation for the moment, Sheppard frowned at him. "_You_ knew?"

Ronan shook his head and went back to his food. "First I've heard of it, but it makes sense, you being jealous I mean. You sort of treat McKay like you own the rights to 'im or something."

With more force than he intended Sheppard snapped "I do _not_." Then he gathered his thoughts into a more coherent pattern and asked with as much casual inflection as possible "Is this new find of the female variety?"

Weir asked "And if it were, that would surprise you?"

"No, no," Sheppard said, the food sticking in his throat. "But it would be a bit, you know, unusual. I mean Rodney doesn't exactly attract, um, uh..._anybody_."

Weir seemed a bit put out. "Is that a fact?" She put down her fork. "And why do you think no one might be attracted to Rodney?"

Sheppard looked over to Ronan for support, knowing he'd put his foot in it, but Ronan was still chewing, waiting to hear the answer too.

"Well, Rodney's a nice enough guy and all, hell, he's my best friend, but he's a little...not so much...I mean not really...the _attracting_ type." It was weak and he knew it.

"Is that so?" Weir asked. "Well I happen to disagree."

She sounded like she was spoiling for a good verbal spar and Sheppard's vein of thought ground to a halt. "You do?" He winced, realising how incredulous he had sounded.

Weir nodded. "Yes, I do. Rodney may not be to everyone's taste, but he has..." she paused and then said, sounding very decided on her choice "_very_ nice eyes." She took up her coffee cup. "Really, very nice and very _kind_ eyes. Rodney wouldn't hurt a fly."

Sheppard had to agree. "Well, no, I agree, no h-he wouldn't..."

Teyla jumped in. "I agree with Elizabeth. Rodney may not be as physically fit as some but he has very good thighs."

Sheppard almost gagged on his piece of steak while Teyla merely continued her observations, not noticing his choking sounds. "Yes, over-all quite admirable legs and apparently, as I have heard some other women comment – how did they put it? – he possesses a backside that will not quit." She took up her tea cup and finished with "I believe that was the phrase I overheard."

John asked. "_Really_?"

Weir nodded in agreement. "Yes John - _really_." She seemed annoyed with him. "I must admit I agree with Teyla. Rodney's best side is while he's walking _away_."

At his disbelieving expression Teyla's watchful eyes widened. "You seemed shocked by this opinion, colonel Sheppard."

Sheppard fidgeted. "I'm not shocked, exactly; I've just never heard either of you talk this way before about..._Rodney_." _Nor had anyone else for that matter _he thought but very wisely did not say.

Teyla offered more news "And I believe Rodney has dropped some weight. He is looking more fit than usual."

Weir asked accusingly "Surely you've noticed _that_, John? He _is _on your team."

Sheppard nodded quickly lest he get into more trouble, but no, he had not noticed that either. "Well, I don't really pay attention to looks."

Teyla raised her eyebrows as though catching her commander in a lie. "Oh? Then why do you spray your hair very morning?"

Sheppard looked like a rat caught in a cage. "I don't spray my hair."

Ronan said "Yeah, ya' do. I smell it on you when we spar. It's a bit feminine."

Weir pointedly asked Ronan "And the beads you put in your long, flowing locks, are not?"

"They're Satedan memory beads, not jewelry." He said defensively. "They're part of my culture."

Teyla and Weir nodded, the ladies acceding to his explanation and then Teyla added "The point is that we all want look our best and I think Rodney wishes it as well for his new beau. It seems cruel that you two are making fun of him for doing so." Then she added "And, yes, John we can _all_ smell the hairspray."

Silently vowing to change his brand from Consort to something significantly less fragrant, Sheppard hurried on "Well I have to use a little or it stands up - can we get back to the topic at hand please? Are you sure Rodney's met someone?"

Teyla admitted "We are not positive but Rodney does appear to be showing all the signs of being in love."

Rodney was showing _signs? _Sheppard frowned that he could somehow have missed all of this.

Ronan said. "Well, if its making him exercise more - good, he needs to fix himself up a bit."

Weir asked "_Fix_ himself? Tell me, Ronan, in between missions how do _you_ stay so fit?"

He rattled off the reasons as though they should be obvious. "In between missions I work out, I spar, I train others..."

Weir then rattled off her own point, underlining it for him. "Well, when ever Rodney comes back from a mission, he goes to his lab and works. He's busy every day devising new ways for us to fight our enemies, effecting repairs to the city, and working on keeping the tech' around here running at top efficiency. He runs an entire department, and Rodney is directly responsible for the work of the other scientists in that department. He's the first to arrive every morning and the last to leave at night_ and_ he's on Sheppard's team, so it should not surprise us that he doesn't have the time to always be muscling up...he's busy twenty-four-seven."

Ronan sighed and turned his attention back to his food. "Yeah...whatever, it's none of our business anyway." Truthfully he had not considered that whenever he was busy in the gym toning up, Rodney was sitting in front of his computer, busy doing the work he had been hired, and was _required_, to do.

Grateful that Ronan was drawing his share of the women's ire now, and trying to put two and two together, Sheppard asked "Well, who is it he's seeing?"

Teyla blinked at him rapidly. "Colonel Sheppard, perhaps you ought to go and _ask_ him yourself."

Sheppard forgot all about his food, sliding it to the center of the table. Ronan speared his steak, dropping it on his own tray while Weir and Teyla excused themselves.

After they were out of ear-shot Ronan said "You shouldn't have asked, Sheppard. Those two have a soft spot for McKay."

"Yeah, well..." Sheppard slapped Ronan on the shoulder "We_ both_ walked into that one, pal. Look, I'm gonna' go find Rodney. I'll see you later."

XXX

Sheppard knocked on Rodney's door. "Rodney. Come on, open up. I'm tired of you avoiding me." He had spent the better part of the afternoon trying to track the physicist down with no luck. Whatever Rodney was doing, he was keeping it well to himself.

Sheppard wondered if he should just barge in but then he risked catching Rodney in a compromising position with his new girlfriend, if there really was one. But Rodney wasn't answering the door so, using his inherited ancient gene, with a small pang of conscience Sheppard willed the door to slide open and stepped into the room.

Immediately he heard the shower running and understood why Rodney had not answered his knock. Sheppard decided to wait and sat on the end of the bed while Rodney finished cleaning up. To wile away the minutes, Sheppard lay back, sinking into the soft mattress piled with quilts and rumpled clothing. Linking his hands behind his head looked around at what he could see from such a sunken vantage point.

What he could see was slightly neater than usual and it was another clue in the mystery surrounding Rodney's unusual behavior. The normally untidy scientist appeared to be taking at least some time straightening up a bit here and there. Another new change Sheppard had not known about until this minute. Rodney's excuse had always been that he was too busy, but Sheppard suspected the truth had simple been Rodney was a genius slob or didn't ever have any visitors of the female persuasion back to his quarters anyway and so saw no need to keep the place neat.

The water stopped and Sheppard could hear Rodney humming to himself. That was also a bit weird.

Sheppard almost said his name when Rodney stepped from the bathroom but the man wasn't wearing a towel around his waist and Sheppard quickly looked away, realising with some embarrassment that the scientist had not only not noticed he had a visitor but that he had no reason to suspect he did. Rodney had naturally assumed he was still alone in his own quarters.

_Well, moron_, Sheppard thought. Of _course_ he wouldn't think there would be someone lounging on his bed while he air-dried himself. It was after all, Rodney's place.

Sheppard felt like a dirty voyeur by looking back but he was just curious enough to find out whether Teyla and Weir were correct in that Rodney has lost weight and was looking sharper.

He was, Sheppard decided. A cursory glance told him that. Rodney was trimmer and more toned. And damnit if the bastard didn't have good legs just as Teyla said; really good, shapely man-legs that he had hid away all this time, refusing to _ever_ wear shorts in the gym.

But to preserve his sense of hetero-self Sheppard refused for even a minute to mentally consider whether or not it was as fine an ass as the other women had, according to Teyla, observed. He did decide, however, it was high time to make his presence known or it really would seem like he was secretly ogling his best friend. "Rodney."

Rodney jumped about two feet and spun like a top. "Je-zus!" He said, staring at Sheppard like he'd been stunned by a Wraith weapon. Reaching for a discarded shirt Rodney swiftly wrapped it around his waist to hide his nakedness. "Sheppard, what the-" Rodney licked his lips and swallowed to settle the sudden hammering in his chest. "You nearly gave me a _heart_ attack! What the hell are you doing sneaking around my quarters?"

"I _wasn't_ sneaking. I'm here because I've been looking for you _all_ day."

Rodney lifted his chin and set to opening drawers one after another, then slamming them shut, trying to find some clean underwear and other clothes, directly avoiding looking at his best friend. "Well, I was_ busy_."

"Doing what? It doesn't take all afternoon to scout out one storage locker, and before you tell me you found some interesting device-or-other, I had Bates check it out for me, and it was empty. The dust had hardly been disturbed, except for the top of _one_ crate, so don't try inventing excuses to explain why you spent the afternoon avoiding me."

Rodney dropped the dirty shirt that was hiding his nether-regions to slip on a pair of underwear and Sheppard averted his eyes. No man should see his best friend naked, or wearing clingy cotton boxers that showed everything. A thing he ought to have remembered before barging in, he supposed.

As Rodney pulled on a pair of less clingy blue sweats, he answered. "I wasn't avoiding you. Can't I have a free afternoon without checking in with you every ten minutes? You may be my commander when I'm on duty but once in a while I get a few hours off, too, and I'm _not_ required to file a report on my activities - or did you _forget_ that Colonel?"

Sheppard heard the indignity inherent in Rodney's tone as though he were being viewed as a man not with his own agenda but Sheppard's personal lap-dog. Suddenly Sheppard felt like a nosey Nelly for all but stalking his best friend, and making demands on his time and where-a-bout's as though he wasn't supposed to have fun without his commanding officer there to approve it. "Sorry, Rodney, I was just, uh, sorry." He stood up to leave.

Before he got to the door, Rodney said "I've met someone, okay? And I want to keep it private this time."

That he admitted it to him was a sign that Rodney had not intentionally tried to block his best friend out of his life. That he admitted it also showed that Rodney wanted his best friend's support as well and Sheppard deeply appreciated the gesture. He also exactly understood Rodney's meaning about privacy. Once any of the fellows on the various teams found out that Rodney had enjoyed even one date with anyone that fellow would quickly spread it to all the others and the never-ending jokes would begin. The cat-calls would erupt whenever he was around as though Rodney having sex was some sort of rare, circus side-show, and Sheppard knew even though Rodney shrugged off such talk, it hurt him none-the-less.

So Sheppard got the privacy part. What he didn't so much get was the _secrecy_. "I understand that Rodney, but we're supposed to be best _friends_." When no more information was forthcoming, and going over every new female name he could think of produced no likely candidates, Sheppard asked with a little less patience than before "Well, aren't you going to tell your best friend who the lucky girl is?"

"Not right now, no." Rodney was still not looking at him however, and that was just not like the physicist at all. If Rodney was frightened of anything, it sure as hell was _not_ a shouting match. Rodney could string together a battalion of insults and fire them off as fast a P-90 with a slammed firing pin. There was hardly a soul alive better at verbally mowing down an asshole than Rodney McKay.

Now Sheppard felt a little hurt. "Why not?"

"Because it's none of your damn business."

This time there was no mistaking the dismissal in his tone and Sheppard knew that for some reason not yet evident he had this time somehow stepped over the line. Rodney was fairly tolerant of his friend's interference on his life but something was eating at the guy and right now pushing Rodney's buttons was clearly not a good idea. Not tonight. "Yeah, I understand. Sure. Uh, sorry I barged in." Sheppard turned to leave.

Behind him he heard Rodney suck in a huge breath as though readying himself to jump into the unknown. "It's a man."

Sheppard had heard Rodney say the impossible word and he stopped. Then he turned around. He wasn't sure however that he had heard him correctly. Better to be sure. "Sorry?"

Rodney was standing sideways, not directly looking at him anymore. "Yes, John, I said a man. That's why I don't want anyone to know." Softer "That's why I don't want any of the team members to know." Rodney finally slipped on a shirt, not one of his military issue but a looser white cotton button-up casual. "Dealing with their bullshit is bad enough when it's a coffee date, imagine..." He left the sentence to dangle, using small circular motions of his right hand to finish it.

Rodney was now looking at him with fear nestled in his eyes. Sheppard swallowed once. As news went, it was pretty unexpected, in a spectacularly world-shifting, expectations-shattering kind of way. "I see, uh, well, um, I see."

Rodney let his fingers drop from buttoning up the shirt. "There it is," he said, "That awkwardness that always comes. I _knew_ I shouldn't have said anything."

Sheppard didn't feel awkward. Stunned was more like it. "Look, Rodney, I didn't know, okay? I only today began to suspect you were seeing anyone let alone a - I mean how long, um, when...?"

"When do you think? Since always." Rodney tossed the shirt aside and put his hands on his hips. John noted the lack of love handles. "Orientation's not al-a-carte, you know, it's not like it's a _choice_."

"So you're..."

"_Bi_-sexual." He sounded disappointed in his friend. "You _can_ say the word - you're safe you know. It's not like sexual orientation rubs off."

"I know that." Sheppard guessed it had been a stupid kind of assumption that Rodney being with a guy necessarily meant that he was gay. He _had_ seen him with women. "Look, I didn't mean to pry, I really didn't. It's none of my business." Sheppard said, though he knew he had just spent an entire afternoon doing his best to _make_ it his business. This was a huge step for Rodney, not only actually being in a relationship that lasted more than two coffee dates but a relationship with a man that had clearly developed way passed the coffee date phase. Now he had reason to be genuinely concerned and to make it his business, if just a little bit. They were best friends after all. "Why in the hell didn't you ever talk to me about this?"

Rodney's expression was barely tolerant. "Do you often feel the _need_ to talk to me about your heterosexuality?"

Sheppard got the point. "No, I...guess not." _Reprimand received Doctor_. "But are you...okay? Do you need to talk about, I mean not _it_, but...?"

Rodney shook his head. "No, I'm okay. It's not an illness, John; I don't have the Satedan _clap_ or anything."

"Okay, okay...just thought I'd ask..." Secretly Sheppard was glad Rodney did not want to discuss his personal life with him because Sheppard himself was to-hell-and-gone not _at all_ ready to discuss Rodney's new bisexuality with _him_. What he especially did not want to know right then was whether Rodney had ever imagined _them_ together in any physical fashion other than back-slapping buddies on a mission. "Um, look, sorry about all this, but are you...I mean...can I ask you just one thing – are you...happy?"

Rodney finally looked up at him, meeting his gaze and instantly the sky-blue eyes were softer, warmer than when he had first come in. Of course he was actually showing his elusive friend some concern now - _About time Sheppard! _But he had never been good at this touchy-feely stuff.

Rodney nodded. "I...maybe...I think so."

It suddenly struck Sheppard that happiness was not something Rodney had a lot of experience with. Job satisfaction perhaps and certainly immense pride in his own stupidly-high intelligence - but happiness? Maybe this was the first time in a long time. If so, neither he nor anyone else had any right to question it. He nodded. "Good, that's good." Sheppard said. He really was glad for his friend, and the weirdest part is, it _felt_ good to feel that, and to see Rodney looking so...content. "Good. I'm happy for you Rodney. I am, I'm...I'm really _happy_ for you."

XXX

_Now_ Sheppard needed a good sparring session with Ronan, Teyla or anyone willing to try and kick his ass.

Sweating was good. Beating the crap out of someone, or conversely, getting the crap beat out of you was a sweating, stress relieving and testosterone building good time.

Bates and two other among the young recruits were the only ones hanging around the locker room. Two of the new guys – Sheppard searched for the names – Hanson and McCormack – were changing into sweats and trading jokes. Sheppard knew better than to ask one of the new guys if he'd be willing to spar with their Colonel because the idea of not holding back against their commander always terrified new guys. Beating up your commander was thought to be a taboo. So Sheppard asked Bates who had been serving with him long enough to know that Sheppard really _didn't_ want his opponent to hold back. If you always knew what was coming, it was impossible to hone your field skills.

Bates finished dressing and went to warm up while Sheppard slipped into the row behind the newbie's to change.

"Any missions this week?" He heard one ask his friend.

"None so far. I think Sheppard's waiting for something that isn't too risky. He's got to feel me out I guess, but I am ready to seriously kick some ugly Wraith ass."

"Speaking of feeling things out – how can you tell you're in McKay's lab? All the stools are upside-down."

A soft chortle of appreciation sounded from the second recruit and Sheppard, finished changing out of his clothes, walked swiftly away toward to gym. There was no point in chastising them for the inappropriate humor, such talk was unfortunately part and parcel of the American military institution. Besides he couldn't be sure the joke was based on a rumor they had actually heard regarding McKay or if it was simply a generic all-science-geeks-are-faggots joke.

Either way, though, it was probably not a good sign. Soldiers had a sixth sense about these things, able to size up someone's sexual aura in about three seconds. Sheppard had a feeling Rodney's secret was not going to remain a secret for long.

XXX

"Doctor McKay."

Rodney turned to see Alec approaching him, tablet in hand.

"Finished?" Rodney asked. "That was fast."

Alec handed him the tablet containing his final mathematical thesis, looked around to be sure no one else was in the lab, and then leaned over, kissing his lover/teacher on the lips. "Yes, and I _know _you'll love it, lover."

Rodney had to catch his breath after the lingering kiss and stammered "S-sure, sure, I'll read it after my shift." These public displays of affection, even when there was no one around, that Alec every-so-often surprised him with still made him nervous.

"_And_ you'll love it." Alec kissed him again, this time tweaking Rodney's nipple through his thin science department-issue shirt.

Rodney watched him go, looked at the tablet, reading the title of his student's master thesis, and then set it aside.

Rodney caught up with his favorite student later than evening in the mess hall, taking a seat opposite him. Despite the public venue, it was safe. No one would question why Doctor McKay was speaking to one of his science flackies.

Rodney handed the tablet back to Alec, who took it with a smile on his face. "So, you loved it, didn't you? I _knew_ you would."

Rodney bit his lip. He was falling in love with this young man and he knew it and as much as that thrilled and scared him, this was business, this was_ science_, and in science establishing truth was the crown jewel of any endeavor, whether chemistry, biology or mathematics. "Um, no. No, I didn't love it, Alec. In fact, I'm-I'm _surprised_ you even turned it into me with that many errors."

The young man's face fell. "What do you mean? There's nothing wrong with it, I went over it a dozen times – it's correct."

Rodney was suddenly not sure if this was the right place to discuss it. "Look, go through it again and bring it to the lab tomorrow morning. We can go over it then."

"No, I want to go over it now."

Rodney looked around but everyone else appeared intent on their own business. "This isn't the time or place."

"I think it is." Alec said, not budging from his chair.

Rodney frowned at his lover's sudden turn of anger. "Look, Alec, I'm not singling you out here. If it was Zelenka, I'd toss it back too. I don't play favorites. It's _wrong_, do yourself a favour and accept that. Then go back over it and give it back to me tomorrow."

Alec leaned back and crossed his arms. "I can't believe you're treating me like I'm just anybody. I am not just one of your other loser students; I'm the student you've been _fucking_. How can you do this to me?"

Rodney looked around. "Keep your voice _down_, and I'm not doing _anything_ to you, I'm telling you that some of your calculations are incorrect. If you want a chance at this position, then you need to rework your data." Hoping to soothe the younger man's bruised ego he said gently "This is nothing _personal_ Alec, your proofs are _wrong_. You simply have to go over them again and fix all the errors."

Alec stood up, his chair scraping back noisily across the floor, attracting the attention of a few nearby patrons. "I don't have to go over anything, Rodney, but you're dead-wrong if you think this isn't personal. I can't believe you would do something like this. I gave you everything and this is how you repay me? By casually dismissing something I've worked on for _months_? What – my body isn't enough for you – you want my soul, too?" He then stunned the older scientist by picking up the tablet and throwing it back on the table. "There! _There_ is your goddamn formula's. If you want them corrected _lover-boy_, then _you_ correct them."

There was no way that at least some people had not overheard the entire exchange. Rodney, abandoning his snack, picked up the tablet and turned it over. Its face plate was cracked making the words beneath appear warped, split in half. He gathered up his frayed nerves and, hands shaking pushed his chair in, retreating to his lab as quickly as possible. He switched on his laptop and began surfing.

After about an hour, Alec sheepishly peered round the corner and said "Sorry I lost my temper back there. It's just you have no idea how hard I worked on that."

Rodney, voice as sad as he had ever heard, said. "I know exactly how hard you worked on it." Rodney swivelled the laptop's screen so he could see it. Rodney nodded to the screens content. "This is a proof that Doctor Gerald Brown-Jones wrote in nine-teen-twenty-seven. It's an almost exact copy of the thesis you showed me in the mess hall." Downcast, Rodney looked up at him. "You plagiarised practically the whole thing. Except of course you made changes here and there, hence the errors I found in yours." Rodney shook his head. "Why would you do this?"

Instead of answering Alec asked a question of his own. "How did you know?"

"It seemed familiar so I looked it up. Turns out I read it when I was a graduate student." With his right index finger Rodney pointed to his head. "Eidetic memory, at least when it comes to math. And you didn't answer my question."

Alec shrugged. "I wanted to work under you," He stepped closer and took Rodney's chin in his hand, stroking his jaw, "I mean in a position other than the very _special_ positions where I have been _under_ you."

Rodney slapped his hand away. "Stop it, Alec. This is _serious_. This could get you expelled from the whole program. Do you_ want_ that?"

"What I want is my cock inside _you_." Without warning Alec took Rodney's face in his hands again and kissed him hard on the lips and Rodney allowed it until better sense returned. He pushed him away. "What the hell, Alec? Why aren't you taking this seriously? This could ruin your entire career in astrophysics, and you sure as hell won't get assigned to Atlantis now." To Rodney none of it made sense. "What the hell is going on with you?"

"Make the corrections then." Alec said.

Rodney stared up at him, his face a stew of confusion. "What?"

Alec stuck his hand beneath Rodney's shirt and stroked his right nipple. "Change it, disguise it, make the corrections, do whatever you want with it - make it look good, then I'll sign it and we can get back to fucking each other like rabbits."

Rodney stood, moving his nipple and the rest of his body away from the younger mans' insistent fingers. "What? Are you nuts? I'd lose _my_ career. Absolutely not! No, if you're going to do this, you're going to do this right." Rodney was shaking his head at what he saw as a touch of temporary insanity in his young friend. "_This_ is what you're going to do – you're going to start over with a completely new idea and write it up. I'll make sure the over-time gets approved and then we'll go from there, but that" he pointed to the tablet, "_that_ is not acceptable in any science department, least of all _mine_."

"I thought you loved me?" Alec said, leaning his lithe body against the edge of Rodney's work table.

Rodney, confronted for the first time with the word actually spoke by either of them, tried swallowing with a throat that had suddenly gone dry. "What?"

"I _said_ I thought you loved me?" Alec repeated. "I know I love you, but apparently the feeling is not mutual."

Rodney struggled to make sense of everything that had happened in the last five minutes and almost none of it did. "What...what are you talking about? O-of_ course_ I love you. But this has nothing to do with.._.us_...this has to do with your career – trust me if I didn't love you, I wouldn't give a crap – and that's why I don't understand that you seem to be willing to flush everything you've worked for straight down the proverbial toilet before it even gets off the ground."

"It doesn't have to go down the toilet. All you have to do is fix this for me - this _one_ lousy proof. You claim you love me, so then _help_ me. Fix the damn proof and things can go back to normal." Alec explained. "_We_ can go back to normal."

Rodney closed his mouth, staring at the other man for a few seconds. "What are you talking about?"

"I mean if you want to continue this relationship, and I can only assume you do because I'd like to as well, then help me. Fix the proof – or write me a new one. I'm obviously not capable of the math required, so_ help_ me, Rodney. You're the genius – prove it! Prove you love me and _help_ me."

Rodney searched his lover's eyes but could find no window into his soul. The magazines were wrong about that, too. Quietly, he said "You _know_ I can't do that, Alec."

"_Won't,_ you mean." Alec retorted. He straightened his posture and walked away from McKay. "See ya' around, Doc'."

XXX

Rodney McKay found himself in Elizabeth Weir's office two days later. When he entered Sheppard was already seated before her desk. There was one other empty chair in place for him.

"Doctor McKay, thank you for coming."

Rodney looked back and forth from Sheppard to Elizabeth, and then giving Sheppard a questioning glance. Sheppard shrugged. Apparently he didn't know the reason for the impromptu meeting either.

Rodney took his seat.

"Rodney, something very...something has come to my attention." She scratched her nose. "This...is..." She seemed unable to articulate whatever it was. Then she squared her shoulders and plunged ahead. "Doctor McKay, someone has made certain very serious accusations against you, and as leader of this expedition I am forced to make inquiries into it." She indicated Sheppard with a short wave of her hand. "I have asked Colonel Sheppard to be here as well since you are also under his command and this could very well affect him, and your place on his team."

In a flash of insight Rodney suddenly knew exactly why he had been called in. "What did he say?"

Weir looked grateful that she would not have to continue in such a formal vein. "Alec Burgess claims that you have made inappropriate sexual advances toward him, with which for a time he went along with. He claims you agreed to bolster his career in exchange for discreet...trysts. He now wishes to lay charge against you for sexual harassment and malicious sexual manipulation."

Rodney closed his eyes, feeling all of his blood drain to his feet. He opened them and, pointedly not looking over to see Sheppard's stunned expression, asked Weir "And do you believe him, Elizabeth?"

On the desk Weir clasped her hands together in a tight ball. "Of _course_ _not_. I've known you for years Rodney, these charges are totally bogus."

Nodding "But..." Rodney prompted.

"Yes, but..." she agreed. "The charges are too serious to ignore. And so as leader of this expedition it is my duty to begin an inquiry into them to determine if this should go any further than my office. I'm sorry, Rodney I have no choice. This_ must_ be looked into." She licked her lips. "So it is my unfortunate duty to revoke, temporarily, your duties and privileges as Chief Scientific Advisor of the Atlantis Expedition and as well, you must be taken off all active duties under Colonel Sheppard until such a time as these charges can be dealt with."

Rodney could hardly breathe. To his left Sheppard was leaning over resting his elbows on his sharp knees, rubbed his palms together uselessly. "Son-of-a...Jesus-H-_Christ_..." Sheppard whispered.

Rodney stood up, swayed and almost fell over but righted himself before anyone took notice. "Is that all?" He asked.

Weir nodded, unable to look at him as Rodney walked out of her office on shuffling feet, his movements about as substantial as a ghost's.

Once Rodney had left Sheppard lifted his head up and stared at Weir. She did not miss his level-eyed meaning. "I know, John, I _know_ but there's nothing I can do. Rodney is going to have to defend himself on this one. I'm sure the charges will be dropped as soon as it's determined how ridiculous they are. This Alec burgess has no case."

"But maybe he could make it _look_ like he has one. This could destroy Rodney's career, Elizabeth – and _Rodney_. The scandal alone..."

"-I _know_." She said her face as grim as his. "So let's get to work so that doesn't happen."

XXX

Sheppard caught up with Rodney in the hallway outside his quarters. Rodney said nothing, he just let him follow him into the room, and the door closed behind them.

It had to be asked. "Rodney, what were you thinking, getting involved with someone in your _department?"_

Rodney just stood in the middle of his room, as though stuck whether to sit in his chair or slouch on his bed. He chose the chair, resting his aching head in his hands. "Alec isn't actually a member of my department."

Sheppard dismissed the technicality. "You're splitting hairs, Rod'. It was _stupid_."

At that moment Rodney seemed not to care about any of it. "Then I'm stupid I guess."

Sheppard took the edge of the bed but didn't slouch. He was too full of frustration for that. "Hardly...but you could have at least picked any one from among..."

Rodney raised his head, snapping out sarcasm "Oh, yes, Colonel Screws-Everybody. How silly of me. I must have missed _all_ the other romantic possibilities lined up outside my door."

Trying not to put his foot in it again, Sheppard took a great sigh. "Look, Rodney, what do you know about this guy? He's obviously lying, and we have to prove it."

"We won't need to, I can talk to him, straighten out this whole thing."

"Protocol says you're not _allowed _to speak to him now, not after he's laid charges, bogus or not."

"I can if you don't tell anyone about it. He'll listen to me, he..."

"He what, Rodney?"

But Rodney had been experiencing tiny revelations all day since his argument with Alec in the lab. As much as his own feelings were still very much alive and well, although currently frozen in a kind of breathless agony, Alec's intentions had not likely been sincere from the beginning. Rodney bit his lip, trying to swallow the hurt and tears. He'd been humiliated enough for one day, he didn't need Sheppard to see him break down crying, too. "Never mind..."

Sheppard sat up straighter. "Oh shit..." He said, and then stood up, slowly pacing in tiny circles, putting the last piece of the mystery together. "Were you...did you...were you _in love_ with him?" When Rodney didn't answer right away, that cinched it as far as Sheppard was concerned. "You were, weren't you? I had no idea this...I'm sorry, I didn't realise you were...did you love him, Rodney? I mean, or..._are_ you..?"

Rodney wiped at his eyes, the tears hanging there, ever threatening to fall but not falling. He would _not _allow them to show themselves and reveal the vulnerability and the sheer stupidity of his heart. He whispered "Maybe...a little."

Sheppard wanted to throttle the little lying bastard. How _dare_ the son-of-a-bitch use and then _abuse_ his best friend! Sheppard had no idea what to do. He sat back down on the end of Rodney's unmade bed. What could they do? They had to stop this. "We'll figure this out, Rodney, somehow...but you need to stay away from him as of this minute." Not only was it breach of the legal procedures in such matters, Sheppard was worried that the guy might still have some influence over Rodney and feasibly to his friend's detriment. If true then that influence had to be squelched as soon as possible. "I promise."

XXX

Part II asap.


	2. Chapter 2

**Completeness Part 2**

_Bit of a weepy, fluffy chapter, 'cause I was feeling down today, but better now that it's complete._

XXX

Elizabeth looked at both men. The young Alec Burgess sat straight-backed, his face resolute in its cause. Rodney on the other hand, looked like he hadn't slept in days, and was slouched back in the padded chair, rubbing his temples with the splayed fingers of his right hand. "I've called you both in the hopes we might resolve this before it goes any further." Elizabeth said, looking at the younger of the two first, and then at Rodney who did not appear hopeful.

"You're wasting your time." Burgess remarked. "I know my rights."

"You may know your rights but what you're doing..." Elizabeth began, and then bit her lip. "Perhaps a compromise can be reached?"

Now Rodney sat up, paying attention.

"Perhaps," she said looking between them, back and forth, "Perhaps if I place a letter of reprimand on Rodney's permanent record and you wrote a new mathematical paper, we can avoid this Hearing altogether."

"No."

It was Rodney who spoke and Elizabeth had been expecting it.

"What would you put on my record anyway? He asked. "That I'm a letch who took advantage of a student? Because that's _not _what happened."

Elizabeth tried to explain it. "Even if I believe you, Doctor McKay, I'm only interested in preserving both your careers."

Alec stood up. "I was stupid to let Doctor McKay take advantage of me the way he did just to advance my career." He said to her and then directed his next words to Rodney "But Doctor McKay should not have done what he did either. I prefer this be sorted out at the Hearing, so if there's nothing else..?"

Elizabeth shook her head.

Rodney said nothing and left once Alec had cleared the room.

Weir then assembled the team, minus one Rodney McKay, in her office. "I want you all to know that by calling you all in here I'm breaking legal protocol. I should not be telling you any of this but I feel this situation...I feel what is being done to Rodney is...unconscionable. I know what the accusations are, but I also know Rodney well enough to know that they cannot be true. The aforementioned are merely my personal feelings on the matter."

She paused and then continued in her most regal voice. "As for the rest, unfortunately I cannot break legal protocol therefore I cannot not tell you any _details_ about how Alec Burgess has accused Rodney of _sexual harassment and sexual manipulation_."

Elizabeth paused briefly when she saw the shocked expression on Teyla face and the anger than suddenly coloured Ronan's. But she steeled herself and continued "I also cannot tell you that we have only _one week_ until the Hearing. If I were not bound by protocols, I would say that _someone should use the time_ to find out all they can about Alec Burgess, but that would be wrong of me. I also cannot suggest that this young man is lying even if that is likely. I suppose some people would assume there might be _evidence _of this lying, perhaps even _a history of it_, but again, this is a suggestion I cannot make."

After her little speech, Sheppard nodded. "I'm sure we're all in agreement, Elizabeth, that you are towing the line when it comes to the legal stuff here. But I was wondering if somehowsome_ other people_ should get wind of this clearly private information, what suggestions would you _never make_ about doing their own _independent and discreet_ inquiries?"

Teyla suggested "I believe any such persons ought to look into his background, perhaps they might discover if such a situation has occurred in his history before."

Ronan added, less discreetly "Maybe some big stranger will put a gun to his head and get the truth that way?"

Sheppard smiled indulgently. "As much as we would all appreciate the sacrifice, I think that big man ought to smooth his dreads back down...at least for now."

Teyla, dropping the pretence, asked "Perhaps the question we should be asking is why this young man doing this at all?" Teyla asked. "This does not make any sense to me. Surely he knows we would not believe such lies about Rodney? Rodney could not have done this. We have known him for years."

Sheppard twisted one side of his mouth. "Well, having a sexual relationship with one of your students tends to be frowned upon by the SGC. Those students are hand-picked and sent here. Someone's going to be pissed, and I think this Burgess character knows that. He's trying to make trouble for McKay."

Weir said "He also knows that there is still some degree of...discomfort among those in charge at SGC regarding Rodney's...life choices."

"They're not _choices_." Ronan said. "It's in-born, that's a known fact." He saw Sheppard and Weir's unsettled expressions. "At least on Sateda it was a known fact."

Teyla reminded her friend "Those so born are not always looked upon with favour on other worlds, Ronan, in this case Earth."

Weir added "At least in some countries they're not. I'm afraid some old taboos are still very much in place, in the military as well."

Teyla shook her head. "I find it puzzling that anyone could see Rodney's natural sexual calling to be anything other than a cause for celebration. Among my people he would be given the added name of Shah-nu - One Who is Finished."

Sheppard asked. "Finished?"

"What _is_ that which you call "bisexuality" other than the call to love _any_one with completeness?" Teyla asked. "Rodney was born with what we term "_finished love"_, a person complete in _every_ way. It is better explained as someone with the fullness of love already inside him, one who hears the calling to share it with _any_ other person. Among my people he would be _honored_ for this, not scorned. A Shah-nu would be viewed with the same dignity as any person displaying his or her devotion by vows or by bearing children. I am even more disturbed that Rodney felt impelled to hide it from us, from his freinds."

"Fear." Weir said.

"Yes, but why? It saddens me." Teyla said. "Surely Rodney knows we would support him in this?" Like Ronan, had she been holding a weapon Teyla looked ready to fire off a few frustrated rounds. "There _must_ be something we can do to stop this."

"Let's meet later, and divvy up the work. Find out everything we can about this guy." Sheppard suggested. "Excuse me."

XXX

Rodney found his lover/nemesis in his lab. Burgess was busy tidying up after one of Zelenka's pet tinkering projects and he looked up from his putting away of the delicate tools into their special box, each with a slot of its own. "You shouldn't be here, Doctor McKay."

"What happened to calling me Rodney?"

Burgess didn't answer.

"Why are you doing this? Is this about your paper? You're...you're trying to ruin me over it...punish me for pointing out your blatant cheating?"

"That's not how I remember things."

"And the...the things you said..." Rodney was about to ask him if anything Alec had spoken during their love-making had been at all real, but decided he would be better off not knowing. That would make all this hurt that much more. Not because the words had been lies, but because Rodney had fallen for them. He felt like a fool. "All you have to do is drop this and write another paper. I'll forget about the first one, we can pretend it was just anxiety of your part – a lapse in judgment – whatever."

Alec answered using a well thought-out string of bullshit. "You used me, doctor. I felt compelled to produce brilliance in a thesis I was clearly not ready to write. I thought if I just went along with your sexual advances, then maybe I could score a place on the Atlantis science department. It was stupid of me, but I've seen the error of my ways and confessed. What happens now isn't up to me."

"Don't you get it? This'll ruin your career, too, when they discover the paper."

"I erased the paper, and even if you made a copy of it and stashed it somewhere, I'll have the satisfaction of knowing that I won't be going down alone."

Rodney stared into his former lover's cool eyes and Alex suddenly smiled and said "Come on, doc' you didn't really think any of that pillow talk was true did you?" He watched as his words were driven deep. The twist of the knife was always the best part.

McKay swallowed, turned on his heel and left.

It was only a few seconds after leaving Alec in his lab that Rodney ran into Sheppard in the hallway. "Rodney, what were you doing?" Sheppard answered the question for them both. "You were talking to Burgess weren't you?" When Rodney didn't stop Sheppard grabbed his arm, spinning him around to make him stop. "McKay, you are not supposed to talk to him or go anywhere near your lab. Are you trying to make this worse than it is?"

Rodney looked like he hadn't slept since this all began. "I hardly think it could get worse John." He said, his usual snark filtered by lack of sleep or a decent meal.

"You look like shit, McKay."

Rodney nodded, knowing it was true but he couldn't bear the stares from the other staff in the mess hall. The whole story had of course gotten around to every living soul in the city. Gossip was in short supply on Atlantis so when a juicy story came along it became the topic of the week. "What do you want, besides to point out the obvious?"

"I want you to _not_ talk to that man. He's trying to screw you over and we're trying to_ stop_ him from screwing you over so it would be a big help if you didn't do anything stupid that would _help _him screw you over."

"I'm already screwed." Rodney said. _In both the literal and the figurative senses_.

"What's that supposed to mean?"

But McKay turned away. "Come on, Sheppard, you can't possibly be this naive. Even if we can prove he's lying – which he is – the Hearing and whatever happens after that will still be a matter of legal record. My career will be effectively over if not actually. It'll take time but they'll find some way to get rid of me. I won't be able to get a lousy teaching job anywhere after this."

Sheppard followed McKay's exhausted shuffle to his disorderly quarters and then entered. The lights came on once the city's scanners sensed its owner had entered. Sheppard noted that Rodney had the lights set to half mast, undoubtedly due to the migraine headaches that plagued the over-worked scientist.

Sheppard was often amazed at how a man possessing a mind so blessed with brilliance would have such a disorderly unholy mess for a living space. Bound books were piled everywhere. Rodney had three different lap-tops sitting on the various cluttered surfaces, each running some program or other, made up of mostly mathematical equations that to Sheppard were indecipherable numbers on a screen and nothing else.

Clothes, soiled and clean, shared the same dresser top, the bed was unmade and there were more clothes and equipment of every description lying about higgledy-piggledy on the side tables and on the floor. A small white-board that Rodney had absconded from the lab for himself occupied one full corner of the main bedroom, more calculations scribbled across its face in Rodney's distinctive handwriting.

Sheppard realised that Rodney was trying to keep his mind occupied, since he was barred from entering his own lab until the Burgess mess was cleaned up. Sheppard had no idea what he was working on but he knew Rodney liked to talk about his, for lack of a better description, mathematic-based hobbies. He nodded at the white board "Any luck?"

Rodney shook his head, and then offered "I'm trying to find a proof for the idea that time is merely a useful instrument we use for measuring change but doesn't actually exist in any measurable form."

Sheppard nodded and McKay could see he needed a bit more. "What we think of as time is merely our perception that we exist in a linear dimension we _call_ time, but time may only be a perception, not a reality. We and everything around us changes constantly and our minds remember and mark those changes, so it seems for us that time has gone by, but it may be only that we have changed within a state that encompasses the universe. We exist, not in time, but as creatures of energy with the ability to perceive the change."

At Sheppard's continued silence, Rodney added "Look at it this way - the person you are now is not the same person you were when you entered the room. Your quantum state, your energy that makes up _you_ – because that's what we are – not so much mass but energy with charge – changed the whole time you were entering the room, it's never constant. So, instead of us existing and moving along as though we were riding a bicycle called time, we only_ think_ there's a bicycle."*

Sheppard got the point, if not the rows and rows of mathematical scrawls behind it all. "So...no luck in _proving_ that yet?"

McKay shrugged. "Not yet."

What amazed Sheppard was the man was clearly under the assumption that he eventually would prove it. Turn the tides on all current and accepted theories of space-time...for Rodney McKay, just another day at the office. Small wonder McKay had been given free rein to choose his own scientific team. The exception was the students the IOA kept sending him. Once this fiasco was sorted out and Burgess sent on his merry-asshole way, Sheppard foresaw a rapid curtailing of that particular policy.

Sheppard wanted to get back to the issue at hand. "Rodney, you should not have talked to him."

Rodney waved way his concern with disinterest. "What the hell difference does it make now? I have the worst luck in the universe, I should have expected this."

"You mean complications by repeatedly sleeping with a member of your own team, nah - really? _Of course_ you should have expected complications. That's why there are rules about it."

Rodney turned to stare at him accusingly. "Right. And you're telling me that you have never, ever slept with a female member of your team? Not _ever_?"

Sheppard couldn't deny it. "That's different. A one night stand when both are being discreet is worlds away from a six month affair with a student where you, the supposedly responsible one, _fall in love_." Sheppard licked his lips, not certain if he should ask. "What the hell did you see in each other anyway?"

Rodney stared back at him, and Sheppard could see the wheels behind his eyes spinning that much faster. Sheppard suddenly knew the question had been a mistake. Rodney was no fool, but he did have a heart and Sheppard heard it figurative crack, the wound caused by him just as surely as though he had struck it with his own hand. Rodney asked "You mean what did Alec see in _me_." His friend lowered his eyes, turning away. "Well, I guess nothing, since he's throwing me to the wolves as fast as he can."

Sheppard knew he should stop but plunged ahead. There were some things he _had_ to know now, things that Rodney had hidden from him through-out their entire friendship, and Sheppard suddenly found himself royally pissed off about it. They had worked together, sat together watching movies, eaten side by side, scrubbed themselves down side by side in the military showers after a mission, see each other wounded, bloody, _naked_..."Have you ever...did you ever...think that you and I.."

Rodney was stricken. It was there in his eyes like a physical blow. "You think that I'd...what do you take me for John, some sort of letch who can't keep his hands to himself now that you know I'm bi'? What the hell has changed?"

Sheppard spun away from him, the look in Rodney's eyes uncomfortable, accusing -_ painful_. But he couldn't help himself. "I don't_ know_. All I know is you lied to me for years about who you are and based on that we built a friendship, a friendship around _bullshit_ and I'm goddamn mad about it." Sheppard suddenly had a thought - Had he known about Rodney bisexual proclivities, would there have _been_ a friendship at all? Honestly he couldn't answer his own question.

Rodney stared back at him and Sheppard found it difficult to meet the man's eyes. Rodney had such telling eyes. His emotions were always right there in your face, open, layered emotions, his surging thoughts exposed to the world via those disconcertingly naked eyes. He had never known Rodney to lie about anything. Until now.

Rodney, not a big man, appeared to shrink up a little, to age and slump in those few seconds. "What do you want me to say John? That I'd like to try your cock someday? That I've fantasised about you every night since we met?"

Sheppard felt the strangest emotion, fury and pity and shock all rolled into one. He had never known Rodney McKay to speak so starkly about his own personal feelings before, or use sexual language of any description. The man, Sheppard had_ thought_, had always been a bit of a prude, but suddenly he was hearing casual words about his_ penis_ coming from McKay's mouth like it was okay. Sheppard didn't appreciate hearing about pieces of his own anatomy from friend's lips as though they were now a normal part of their daily conversation, as though it were acceptable, and that was suddenly one of the things that bothered him most about this new Rodney. This Rodney he _didn't_ know. Not anymore. "Well, have you?"

Rodney stared unblinkingly and Sheppard could see the pain he had caused his friend. His friend who was in trouble, but it was too late to take the question back now. Rodney looked away and said quietly "You don't have any reason to worry. I'm not even on your team anymore – right?"

Sheppard felt the tension in his back and tried to relax his posture, letting his hands fall to their sides. "Goddamnit, Rodney. Why in the hell didn't you ever tell me about...about your "man-hole" side? I thought we were friends. I thought you trusted me."

Not that the grief in his eyes had gone away but sarcasm Rodney was back. "Yeah, why didn't I? I mean you're handling it so _well_..." Rodney slumped down in a padded chair by the window.

Sheppard spent a moment trying to absorb this new aspect of Rodney that had sent his mind and feelings careening out of control, making him say things he should not have said and ask questions designed to elicit knowledge and hurt. It was as though his own hetero-male make-up was under fire by all the emotions, anger and betrayal firing off rounds between them. Sheppard knew that if enough verbal bullets hit their targets, their friendship might never recover. He didn't want that but he also had no idea how to stop it.

Rodney sat back, rubbing his head. "I thought you were okay with this?" He suddenly asked rhetorically. "I thought...you understood, you _said_ you did, you said...you said you w-were happy for me..." Rodney sounded tired beyond all measures of tired. His speech was rapid-fire but slurred, a sign he was well passed the need for healing sleep and deep into the adrenaline-fed state of pseudo-wakefulness.

Sheppard answered, knowing he sounded like a sexually phobic, pathetic boor. "I was being _nice_."

"So, what you're saying is I've clearly fucked up our friendship, but does this mean you're not going to help me?"

"Of course I'm going to help you. It's just...I need time to work this all out, Rodney. It's like I don't know you anymore."

Rodney shook his head. "No, you just know more now than you_ wanted_ to. You think hetero-macho image is now at risk because everyone now knows your former best friend is bi'."

"We're still friends, Rodney."

Rodney seemed determined to push it. "Even though you and everybody else now know my "man-hole" appreciates pussy_ and_ cock? That second part doesn't bother you?"

He figured he may as well be honest and blunt since McKay was being both. "Yeah, the penis part bothers me a little."

"And how about if I tell you that I have, once or twice, thought about you in..._that_ way."

"You _have_?" Sheppard blushed to the roots of his hair, but he couldn't make head or tails of his own feelings on the matter. It both angered and pleased him to know that. "Um - how much? I mean how _far_ did you..?"

"Ever look at Teyla when she isn't looking back? When she's dressed in her sparring clothes?"

"Sure."

"But you didn't take it any further?"

"No. I rely on and respect her too much for that, and she's a member of my team."

"Well, there you go..."

Sheppard got the point. "Look, Rodney..." But his radio beeped and Lorne spoke. "Colonel Sheppard we'd got a situation on the mainland."

"What situation."

"Someone was caught burning crops, some sort of dispute. No other details yet. Elizabeth thinks we ought to go and find out more before someone gets hurt."

"All right, I'm on my way." He looked at Rodney. "McKay...I'm sorry about all this."

Rodney vigorously rubbed the hair on his head, trying to shake loose the cobwebs from his thoughts. "Yeah, sure – go. They need you."

XXX

Sheppard and his team were back in under an hour and Beckett caught up to him in the weapons lockers. Without bothering to see who else was around, he strode up to Sheppard and demanded. "What the hell did you say ta' 'im Colonel?"

Sheppard gave a dismissing flick of his eyes to Ronan who mumbled to Teyla, Lorne and others and they all filed out. After the room was empty he answered "What Rodney and I talked about was_ private_ but I guess I forgot to mention that part to him."

"Private or not, I just left him and let me tell you something colonel, I've only seen Rodney break down one other time in his life."

"He was _crying_?" Sheppard didn't mean to make it sound like such a pathetic reaction for a grown man, but when he had left Rodney, the scientist had seemed okay.

"His career's on the bloody line, ya' idiot, and you all but end the friendship? He needs your support more right now than he ever has in his life and the only thing you can think ta' do is make him feel like crap for being who he is? What the hell is the matter with you? If I wasn't a man of healing, I'd knock your bloody teeth out."

Sheppard was shocked to next hear such a scathing condemnation pour from Beckett's mouth but he well knew it was anything but an empty threat. Push him far enough and the powerhouse Scotsman could easily pound him into the ground. The man had iron mitts on him but still Sheppard felt he was being unjustly accused. He had no intention of ending his friendship with Rodney; it was just temporarily all fucked up. _Shit-shit-shit!_ "When _I_ left he was okay."

"Well he sure isn't now. Let me tell you another thing colonel, I've known Rodney a hell of a lot longer than you have, so I've learned something you haven't."

"Oh?" Sheppard was tiring of what he saw as an unfair attack on his motives where McKay was concerned. "And that is..?"

"He may be too much brain and mouth sometimes but at heart he's one of the kindest people you'll ever have the pleasure to know, and here's another thing, as a lover, he's worth every bloody minute of trouble."

Sheppard turned to stone. "You...you mean you and Rodney..?" His head spun. He was learning entirely too many new things about his friends. It seemed to be a week of firsts and it was all too much to take in.

"It was a long time ago but for your information - you're missing out. Rodney is an enthusiastic and considerate lover. In fact, I _doubt _you could match him in that department, so why don't you stick that in your 'man-hole' you insensitive _ass_."

Fortuitously Sheppard ran into Ronan in the gymnasium. He was ripe for a good spar, and maybe getting some sense knocked into his head. Ronan stopped his warm-ups and stared at him, his face one of concern at his stillness and silence. "Sheppard, what's up?"

Sheppard shook his head but not in answer to his question. "I think I might need a favour Ronan."

"Sure." Ronan listened while absent-mindedly twirling the sparring stick.

"I need you to educate me on Satedan...practises."

"What practises?"

Ronan didn't go for subtly, either extending or picking up on it. "Satedan, um, relationship...stuff."

Ronan frowned. "You mean sex?"

"Er, yeah."

"This about Rodney? You and he thinking of..?"

"_No_." Sheppard took a deep, cleansing breath. "No, I just want to...I don't really _know_ what the hell I want. I'm just...trying to understand this new side of Rodney."

"And you think hearing about Satedan sex will do that?"

"Well, between the _guys_, yeah." Sheppard suddenly had a terrible thought. "Have you, um...you know ever been with another..?"

"Sure." At Sheppard's dumbfounded face Ronan rolled his eyes in a very Rodney-like manner. "You Earth types are the most uptight bunch in two galaxies. Seems simple to me - go sleep with a man if you want to know what it's like. Stackhouse likes men, so does Morrison. Or sleep with _Rodney_. He likes you, he probably _loves_ you. What makes you think _sex_ has anything to do with love anyway?"

As far as Sheppard understood it, a whole lot. "Well, it's usually the reason two people get together, at least initially...I _thought_." _Isn't it?_

Ronan shook his head at the backwardness that was his commander's world's weird belief system. "How sad did your kidneys feel the last time Caldwell called you out on a mistake?"

"The only time my kidneys protest is whenever Teyla's kicking my ass all over the gym –why?"

"A liver, kidney, gut, lung, testicle or even a breast can't _feel_ love. None of them have feelings, Sheppard – only _functions_. Organs can't be sad or glad. They can't love or show devotion, only the _mind_ can do that. So for anything other than procreation, sex has nothing to do with loving someone, or dedicating yourself to another. On Sateda that's what it means to love someone, man or woman – makes _no_ difference."

"Yeah but it seems so..."

"What –_weak_?" Ronan strolled over to him, but his casual movement wasn't fooling Sheppard, Ronan was the strongest man he had ever met, and one of the best fighter's he had ever seen in action. If Ronan wanted to kick his ass, it would be no contest. There seemed to be a lot of that sentiment going around today. "You think because I've lain with a man, it makes me weak?" Ronan asked.

"Now hold on, I never said that."

Ronan leaned in so he was eye to eye with his commanding officer "Or maybe it makes me _stronger_ than you because I am confident enough to offer my mind _and_ body to someone who isn't a soft, vulnerable, _smaller_ female partner. Or maybe it's because I can be with my physical equal and_ not_ feel like less of a man." Ronan walked away, tossing his sparring stick in one corner. It clattered noisily in the room of hard floors and walls.

Sheppard called after him. "Hey - I thought you wanted to spar?"

Ronan sounded a bit disgusted "Not anymore."

XXX

After stopping at the mess hall and stuffing two mini chocolate muffins into his pockets, Sheppard returned to Rodney's quarters to try and make amends. He knocked on the door and when Rodney didn't open to him called through it "Rodney, come on, open up. I'm here to apologise for my big mouth, and you know how rare an event _that_ is." When there was silence from inside "I've got cho-o-o-colate."

The door opened and Sheppard's nostrils were immediately assaulted by the reek of alcohol. McKay was sprawled across his bed, a bottle of dark liquid in his right hand. He was dressed as before, in his brown science department issue pants and a casual cotton shirt, wrinkled like it had been slept in, and opened down the front. "Hey Sheep-herd." Rodney said in greeting and giggled at the poor joke.

Sheppard noted the glaze of inebriation in Rodney's blue eyes, which were watery-bright but red-rimmed. "Having a drink I see."

"'Course. My life is over - may as well drink to it." Rodney upended the bottle and took a long swig, almost choking on the amount but forcing it down his gullet. A few drops spilled down his chin and neck and dripped from the end of the bottle, staining the sheets where he laid spread eagle on his rumpled bed.

"Uh, don't suppose I could have a drink huh?"

Rodney offered him the bottle. "All you want."

Sheppard took the bottle from him and set it on the side table. One of them needed to keep their head about him. "Look, Rodney, about some of the things I said before..."

"I _love_ you, Sheppard, you know?" Rodney said distinctly. He was staring at the ceiling and talking openly as though none of his words were the least bit shocking. "You're my best, best friend." Rodney hugged himself as though it were Sheppard in his arms and not his own skin. "Very best friend ever in my whole life. I never had one of those until you...never...'cept for Carson, but he had to f'nsh 'is medical 'ternship or something...so he had to go, you know, across the _country_." Rodney's eyes were watering now. He whispered "That _sucked_."

Suddenly Rodney sat up and pointed an accusing finger at Sheppard. "But then I met you and you were the best friend anybody could want." He suddenly fell back again as though deflated. "Until you didn't want me anymore." He whispered his lips barely moving. Sheppard had to strain to hear him. Rodney was swiftly falling asleep.

"Rodney? _Rodney_!"

But the tormented scientist was passed out in a Canadian Whiskey induced coma for the next eight hours. Sheppard supposed it was for the best, the guy really needed the sleep. Sheppard watched him sleep and spent a few minutes just studying the man, trying to see Rodney as someone other than the brilliant scientist or the guy who had saved Atlantis – or the guy who had made _mistakes_, like they all sometimes did, but was rarely ever cut slack for it. Sheppard had fallen into that same trap, believing that genius_ shouldn't_ make mistakes. Problem was - the greater the genius, the greater the mistakes could be. Like Doranda. Sheppard hadn't cut Rodney any slack at all on that one, a misjudgement he later found cause to regret.

Of course Sheppard knew that Rodney was more than his pal the genius, it was just that he had hardly ever encountered other sides to Rodney. Or maybe, in his quest to remain the image of a military-macho hetero-he-men, he had not made room for the other parts of him. The scientist Rodney was impossible to miss because the man was so ridiculously smart – plus he constantly talked about it. The hypochondriac Rodney he had encountered on every mission that entailed strange food, strange fauna or a rain shower.

The team member/soldier Rodney he also encountered now and again during missions when they had relied on their genius to use that fabulous brain and save their sorry asses. Rodney was a poor shot but was getting better, and no matter how much he complained he never let up trying to his last breath and then some, so soldier Rodney held his own in the field. Sheppard trusted soldier Rodney every bit as much as he trusted Ronan or Teyla.

Then there was Rodney his friend, Rodney the person, Rodney the human being capable of frailty and failure. And Rodney the man with the secrets but still just a man who needed affection and caring like anyone else. That Rodney was a still a bit of a mystery. A man Sheppard, with some embarrassment, was only now getting to know. A man who had felt the need to hide himself from his best friend because he had rightly feared his friend's reaction to the news that he was in fact a sexual being with needs. Needs that sometimes differ-ed from his own perhaps, but needs that none-the-less were his right to pursue. Fuck protocol and fuck his own ego – his best friend was in deep trouble and in sorrow, some of it caused by _him_, and here he was worrying about how it _looked_ to be a friend? Sheppard stripped down to his t-shirt and pants and lay down beside him, tucking his arm across Rodney's softly rising chest.

Sheppard studied his friend's sleeping face and form. Long lashes brushed the tops of fine cheek bones. His chest, other than a sprinkling of light brown hair, was white and smooth. His frame was even and square and strong, his legs well muscled, his torso strong if slightly softer than his entourage of regular ground soldiers, and his movements...Sheppard tried to remember how Rodney moved in the field. Fast for a small man, not _bad _though for a guy who was confined to a computer stool the rest of the time. Not so good yet with his aim but hell-fire quick on the reloads now. And as scared shitless as he often was, as they often all were during a dangerous mission, Rodney had never backed down to a gun in his face or an asshole's threats. Even if all he had to spit were words, Rodney did it better than anyone.

As Sheppard's tired eyes closed his mind woke up to something that was a new thought. Rodney, every contrary _and_ harmonious part of him, really was worth the trouble. "Sorry Rodney." He said into his friend's deaf ear. "I really didn't mean to be such a stupid jerk."

XXX

*This bit is loosely based on a current theory I have read about which I thought it was kinda' cool and right down Rodney McKay's mental alley.

Part 3 asap.


	3. Chapter 3

**Completeness Part 3**

"What is all this?" Weir asked as Caldwell and several dozen of what appeared to be newly recruited soldiers were beamed down to the Gate room in group after group. Caldwell had been among the first to arrive. "Why all these troops Colonel?"

Caldwell walked beside her up the stairs to where her office was situated next to the Gate and Atlantis's central controls. "The SGC decided that you could use a few extra men on the ground for when those Hive ships arrive, plus the ships in the air can be a first defense. Ellis's ship is bringing another platoon as well. A third transport ship is en-route with more officers and men."

"Indeed we do appreciate it Colonel, I just wish we had had some warning. We'll have to double or triple-up crew quarters for the duration, though. This is a big city but many of the habitable towers are still under repair from our last encounter."

"The men are used to bunking up, Elizabeth, it won't be a problem."

"Why did SGC not simple Gate them through."

"The platoons were already out there with us when we had a second Wraith encounter, so we figure since we were coming here anyway...plus we never know what your power status might be at any given time, figured it was best not to drain the ZPM."

"I appreciate that, Colonel Caldwell, believe me. And I'm grateful you and your men are here. No one was hurt I hope."

"No. It was a smaller Wraith ship, not a true hive - may have even been a renegade without a queen. A couple of good shots took it out."

"Good to hear. Now if you'll excuse me, I have to prepare for a Hearing."

"I heard." Caldwell's tone wasn't scornful, merely annoyed. "Hell of a bad time for it."

Weir nodded. "Tell me about it."

"Any chance this Burgess is lying?"

Weir was taken a bit aback. "_Every_ chance actually and how is it you know any details?"

"Word gets around, especially in the service. I have every respect for Doctor McKay but don't be surprised if there's some...unfriendly _talk_ among the troops." Caldwell said it with some distaste.

"I'll keep that in mind, Colonel, as long as your men keep in mind that until a decision is made, Doctor McKay is still an integral part of this expedition, and he is to be treated accordingly."

"And I'll keep _that_ in mind, Doctor Weir." He looked around. "Any chance of my men getting some home-made grub? They've been on rations for over two weeks.'

"I'm sure our staff can whip up some stew reminiscent of home. You know where the mess hall is. Tell them to make themselves at home." Weir saw him off and returned to her office. Just what she needed on top of everything else - sixty-plus extra military people with nothing to do for the next week but mingle and gossip.

XXX

"Mister Woolsey, the latest intel' says that two Hives ships are on a direct course to Atlantis. They are not passing _by_ the planet, they are due to arrive in _orbit_ over Atlantis in under a week and that means they now know that Atlantis is _here_." The cloaking ruse was bound to be shaken loose sooner or later. "We are on high alert and I have new troops pouring in from the Daedulus and the Apollo. This Hearing needs to be put off."

"Those Hives ships are five days away and this preliminary proceeding will only take a few hours at most, and since the charges against Doctor McKay are serious ones, it cannot wait." Woolsey explained in his most corporate sounding voice.

Weir hated that voice.

"Besides, if things don't go in Doctor McKay's – er - favor, we will need time to find another lead scientist for Atlantis. I'm sure you don't want to be short a crucial staff member when a possibly prolonged Wraith attack is imminent."

All of his words reasonable, and all of them loathed. "Who will be over-seeing this?" Elizabeth had assumed it would be herself alone but Woolsey had decided upon a different approach and in that Elizabeth knew he was right. She was too close to the whole thing, Rodney in particular, to be objective.

"Colonels Ellis and Marche, and of course myself." Woolsey answered.

"Marche is a good choice, and I believe she'll be fair but _Ellis_? Won't he be busy preparing for a fight with the Wraith? And more than that - are you aware that he has worked with Doctor McKay before? I don't see how you can believe he could be more objective than_ I_ could be."

"He has only worked on _one_ project with Doctor McKay's_ team _and they were never actually together. The IOA has decided this would not be a significant factor in Ellis's decision making where Doctor McKay is concerned. Besides he is already present n Atlantis and has dealt with this type of situation before."

_Then how about the fact that he has no respect for him? _"I see. I'm assuming you mean he has dealt with a similar situation that was under military jurisdiction, but Rodney is not strictly military." She hoped Woolsey caught the profound disapproval in her tone.

On the screen Woolsey merely lifted an eyebrow, choosing not to address her disappointment. "True, but Atlantis _is_ a military base and therefore this Hearing will be conducted according to military protocols. Marche and I will be Gating to Atlantis within the hour, and the proceedings shall commence in three. Woolsey out."

Weir shut off her computer screen and sat back, then pressed the comm.-link on her desk. "Doctor McKay, would you report to my office."

Sheppard heard the request for McKay city-wide and turned on his heel, changing his trajectory from the mess hall to personnel quarters. After Rodney's drunken night, Sheppard figured the poster boy for sobriety might need a little help getting motivated to face the day ahead. "Rodney."

Sheppard waited. One more knock-knock and if the door didn't open...

But it did, revealing a rumpled scientist who looked, rightly enough, like he had been sleeping in his clothes. "Rough night?"

Rodney took one look at him from beneath heavily squinting eyes. "You could say that." But he stepped back to allow Sheppard room to enter.

Sheppard noted the empty Whiskey bottle lying on the unmade bed. So after he had left Rodney to sleep off his out-of-character binge, Rodney had woken up and drained the rest. Sheppard didn't think he'd seen McKay have more than two alcoholic drinks since he'd know him. It would be a miracle if the man's liver survived it. "So did the booze help?"

Rodney sat back on the bed and rested his skull in his hands, nursing what Sheppard assumed was the Mother of all hangovers. "I'm still here, so no."

McKay had always displayed vocal and often witty sarcasm at other people's expense and less often, a more refined sense of humor with those closest to him. Sheppard liked the later kind more, like right now. "Well, the good news is you've three hours until the Hearing and Weir just called you to her office a minute ago. I think she wants to give you a pep-talk."

"She did? I didn't hear it."

"Well, you're inner ears are probably still swimming in Whiskey. Take a shower Rodney, I'll call Weir and tell her you'll be there in fifteen minutes." Sheppard felt it was time to confess. "Look, um, about all that stuff I said about...you know, about you..."

Rodney waved it away. "Forget it." Then he stole a super fast glance to Sheppard's casual posture against the doorframe of the bathroom. "I'm sorry when I... I may have spoken of your-your..." Rodney turned his head away and let his index finger do the talking, waving it at John's torso and dropping it to cover an area slightly below his belt-line, "_nether-regions_ in a not so appropriate manner...so, you know...I wasn't, I was just angry and, um, I, well...m'sorry." He finished weakly.

Sheppard nodded. "S'okay." He said and then added in an attempt to lighten the atmosphere a bit more "Lots of people talk about them."

Rodney rolled his eyes a little, and then winced at the extra head pain it had caused. "Sure - funny." He took a shaky breath and stood, swaying a little on his way to his bathroom, mumbling his thanks and closed the door. Sheppard hoped that now that they had forgiven each other, they didn't need to talk about it for a while. Rodney had other things on his mind right now at any rate, like was he still going to be Atlantis's Lead Scientific Advisor after this Hearing was over, and how was he to rebuild his reputation among Atlantis' personnel, with all the rumors circulating about the homosexual predator who was their resident scientist. Sheppard reminded himself once more that Rodney was _bi',_ not _homo_ sexual.

Ronan's words kept coming back to him. _Organs have functions, not feelings_. _Dedication, caring and love are possessions of the mind not the body_. After thinking about them for a while, Sheppard was shocked to discover that to him these were new thoughts. He supposed other people had come up with similar conclusions before this, but he had never really spent any time thinking about why people were the way they were, despite his ability to ease his way into the figurative or literal embrace of women, leaders or whole tribes with which he was trying to negotiate an bi-planetary treaty or a quick romp in the hay. As a soldier, scrutiny of why other people thought or acted the way they did rarely crossed his mind. Get the facts and leap in where others feared to tread. Get the job done; that was _his_ way of doing things.

This unexpected side of his best friend of four years, this was something new and it had rocked his world. Knowing that part of Rodney's life, apart from his scientific research that didn't involve Atlantis – which was very little - involved things and people about which he had no idea bothered him. Sheppard had been stunned to discover that he was a little _jealous_ of Rodney's other life. Not because he wanted to bed the scientist himself but because Rodney wasn't just his _best_ friend, Rodney was _his_ best friend. Sheppard felt ashamed of himself that he felt he held some sort of _possession_ over Rodney's friendship - possession over Rodney. The discovery of his own selfishness had been a shock and that the central figure in that storm of untamed emotion was Atlantis's socially misfit genius.

So much was Rodney central to Sheppard's confusion of anger, jealousy and need, he recalled on more than one occasion where Rodney had made plans with someone, a rare enough event in the scientist's spartan social schedule, and Sheppard talking him out of it to go flying, fishing or just movie watching with him instead. And Rodney, being the fairly easily emotionally manipulated pal that he was, had almost always capitulated.

But Rodney was a grown man with interests outside of being Sheppard's buddy and Atlantis's genius. It had been a new discovery that Rodney had other feelings and needs and neither of which required or involved Sheppard in any way. It had left his feelings whirling in uncertainty, not a state of mind with which Sheppard dealt very well.

Rodney appeared from the bathroom dressed and ready to go, and Sheppard was glad the man had decided to don fresh clothes, even if they were faded jeans and a t-shirt with a picture of cube-like cherry pastries where beneath a slogan read: _Two Pi are squared._ "Ready." Rodney said unnecessarily. He looked light-years better however. On the way to Weir's office Sheppard tried not to notice that, in contrary to the looser fit of the off-world uniform pants, the jeans hugged Rodney's backside rather more snugly.

XXX

At the time for the Hearing Rodney showed up in beige dress pants, a tucked-in pressed white shirt and a navy clip-on tie. Sheppard waited in the wings for his turn to make whatever remarks he had, and to answer any of Woolsey, Ellis's Marche's questions. But he kept his eyes on Rodney who was taking his seat. The dressier clothes looked good on him and were a far more suitable ensemble, Sheppard mused, in which to greet the possible end of your entire career.

Most of his, Teyla's and Ronan's attempts to dig up some real dirt on Burgess had turned up little. One story where the kid may have tried a similar move during his senior year at college, but except for some indignant bluster, the professor in question had refused absolutely to say one word about it.

Sheppard suspected Burgess had sexually manipulated his way through much of his education and it was only when encountering Rodney, a man of strict ethics where his work was concerned, that it had faltered. Now burgess was trying to counter-move his way out of a tight spot, and he didn't care whose career tumbled with him.

Burgess testimony had been unwavering, basically accusing Rodney of guaranteeing him a spot on the Atlantis expedition scientific team if he agreed to sleep with the older astrophysicist; but that his "conscience" had begun to bother him so he had decided to "come clean about the whole disagreeable affair". The mathematical Proof that Rodney had insisted Burgess tried to pass of as his own work had been "a misunderstanding" and that it had in reality been "an exercise in his ability to improvise on another's work" and that Doctor McKay had threatened to discredit him if he continued to refuse sleeping with him. Doctor McKay, Burgess had stated, threatened to use the proof as evidence of so-called plagiarism to ruin his career if he did not comply.

Thus far Rodney had adequately defended himself before Woolsey and Marche, and that the claim of sexual manipulation was a total fabrication.

It was Ellis's turn and shuffled papers, peering at Rodney with a cool-as-a-cucumber expression. "How long have you been a homosexual?"

The question was so totally unexpected, Sheppard physical jerked in his seat. What the hell did that have anything to do with it?

"Doctor McKay?" Woolsey looked decidedly uncomfortable but used his kindest voice to soothe down any feathers Elli's bluntly worded inquiry may have ruffled.

Rodney looked like he was about to be sick. "I am _not_ homosexual." He finally said.

Indignant, Weir stood up from her seat next to Woolsey. "I do not see that this line of questioning has anything to do with the case at hand. Doctor McKay's personal life, or his sexual orientation for that matter, is not in question here -"

Woolsey seemed sympathetic to Doctor Weir and to McKay but his expression also seemed to say that he and the others had their jobs to do, no matter how unfair or unkind such might appear to be.

Marche, a middle-aged woman with a fair expression but a hardness in her eyes that comes from a life-long career in the military, was however present to get to the bottom of things and she answered for Woolsey "I am afraid that Stargate Command and the IOA disagree with you, Doctor Weir." She addressed herself to Rodney. "It _is_ Doctor McKay's personal life and how it came to over-lap his professional life that is under scrutiny." She turned his attention to Rodney once more. "Please answer the question, Doctor McKay."

Rodney drew himself up taller in his seat. "I'm bisexual, as if it's any of your business."

"And how long have you been this way?"

Rodney decided to educate them a little. "Sexual orientation is not an acquired taste, Colonel Marche, since I was _born_."

Ellis decided to step in again. "And how many sexual relationships have you had with personnel on Atlantis, besides Mister Burgess?"

Sheppard wanted to kill them both.

"None." Rodney was so desperately striving for a casual voice that Sheppard actually winced at how it actually came out – hard and brittle. Rodney looked at the wall above Ellis's head and not at Ellis as he answered. "I'm a...I'm a _busy_ man."

Sheppard himself purposely stared at Rodney, trying to make him look back, to somehow connect with the stricken emotions so evident in Rodney's eyes that said he was a man who'd had to learn the social graces through trial and error, and whose hostile manner of keeping away those cruelly envious of his talents had translated into loneliness for much of his adult life. Sheppard wanted his gaze to give Rodney strength because no matter how hard he tried Rodney was not only terrible at telling lies but ironically also terribly vulnerable to un-filtered truth when it was directed at him.

The man practically owned the patent on honesty-to-a-fault, and at times it had proved a disadvantage in the field, not that Sheppard wanted him to change that part of himself. That inability to lie was also one of the things Sheppard most appreciated about Rodney - and relied on. In any sort of skirmish, and he and McKay had shared more than a few, when the chips are down you do not want someone soft-peddling the situation. Get soft and you get killed. Hard truth was a lot more motivating.

But sometimes, like now, the hard truth really _hurt_.

"Busy?" Ellis repeated his tone not convinced. "So busy you in fact have time to conduct a torrid sexual affair with a student. A student sent from the IOA, with the approval of the SGC, to learn from the Great Doctor Rodney McKay. So I'm wondering just who else you have been giving lessons to." That Ellis used verbal quotes around the word _lessons_ was unmistakable.

Weir stood once more, slapping her hand down on the table. "That's enough Colonel. Such innuendo will not continue or I will stop this immediately and have you removed."

Woolsey touched her arm lightly, encouraging her to settle back into her chair. He cleared his throat. "I believe Colonel Ellis is merely trying to gather what the extent of this affair was, and whether there were any –er – physical liaisons between Doctor McKay and any other personnel in Atlantis. We need to understand what circumstances might have precipitated this unfortunate...set of events."

Rodney' wary eyes suddenly cleared and he stared at Ellis and Marche with total and clear comprehension. It was as though the heavens had opened up and the sun streamed in to light the darkness and drive away the things that until now had been hidden in shadow. In other words, he suddenly got the point of it all. "You mean you want to know how many queers there are in Atlantis."

Sheppard smiled ruefully. _Smart boy._ Rodney had nailed it – the true reason the SGC was so interested in being involved in this non-military Hearing with its non-military plaintiff and defendant. The military's bigoted issue was plain: Their don't-ask-don't-tell policy not-with-standing, the SGC wanted to know how many powder puffs had slipped passed their psychological screening and infiltrated their secret military installation called Atlantis?

Rodney offered them some information from that area of expertise which he knew best: numbers. "Well, given that a conservative estimate of ten percent of Earth's populace of seven billion is bisexual, lesbian or homosexual, then that would make approximately seven hundred million people on Earth who are _not_ heterosexual, and given that there are three hundred and forty-four permanent residents in Atlantis now, not counting all the new troops that just arrived, that would make the _non_-hetero' population at thirty-four-point-four persons. Is that what you wanted to know Colonel or shall we take a survey?"

Ellis did not turn an eyelash at Rodney's sarcasm. "You may not appreciate the seriousness of this situation, Doctor McKay, but I sure as hell am not-"

An electronic sounding alarm broke off his words of caution. "What the hell is that?" Ellis asked when the claxon kept up a steady rhythm, Ellis following Weir's movements as she jumped up and quickly walked to the door where the hall beyond it lead directly to the central control room. "What is that Doctor Weir?" He demanded again.

"Well, it's certainly not the _Everything's Okay_ alarm, Colonel. That noise the city's way of telling us that those Hives hips have increased their speed and are now less than three days from Atlantis." She looked at Woolsey, daring him to contradict her. "I'm sorry, but this witch-hunt you call a "proceeding" is suspended until further notice."

XXX

Sheppard was made aware of one more SNAFU once the news arrived. "How many were on that transport ship?"

Caldwell did not mince his words. "Ten officers and thirty-six men."

Sheppard paced Weir's office. Present were also Caldwell, Marche, Woolsey and McKay, whose inactive status Weir had immediately reversed for the duration of the crisis. At a time like this she needed her best people and the best in Atlantis included Rodney.

"The SGC has ordered me to return and give them a full report on what's happening here," she glanced at Weir "and I'm referring to the crisis at hand."

Sheppard saw Rodney's subdued but obvious relief that the Hearing and the possible trashing of his entire life was out of the picture, at least for now. "We've got three days so I need to coordinate with the new troops - with your permission Colonel -?" At Caldwell's nod in the affirmative, Sheppard continued "to determine their combat experience and who among them might have specialized training, weapons, medical, tactics..." He looked over at Weir, assuring her "I'll be at that most of tonight and by morning touch base with the science department and we'll have a plan hatched in no time." Hands on hips, it was Sheppard most assured stance, he looked at them all in turn. "We'll be ready."

Caldwell said "I'm returning to the Daedulus. We'll make sure she's ready for anything."

Ellis added. "Same with the Apollo. Our defenses got a bit of a beating. If you can spare one of your field tech's from sciences, I'd appreciate it, Doctor Weir."

"Of course. Take Zelenka. He's good." This was no time to hold onto feelings of resentment or to keep up a running grudge, even if Ellis did bug the hell out of her. With fondness she then looked at Rodney. "We need Doctor McKay here." _In a big, big way_, her expression seemed to say.

By the time everyone had a purpose, it was late and Rodney decided to check on his lab, a place he had not been allowed to enter for the last two days. All was quiet except for one of Zelenka's assistants who was busy clearing away some delicate looking equipment. "Doctor McKay?" She said, startled.

Rodney tried not to roll his eyes. "It's okay, Abbey, it's fine. I'm allowed to be here again." He jerked a thumb at the door. "You go ahead and get some sleep, I'll finish cleaning up."

She looked at the door uncertainly. "Are you sure? I don't mind."

Doing his best not to immediately lose patience with her, he scooped some air with both hands in the direction of the door as a way to encourage her to start moving, managing to keep his tone airy. "I'm sure. Now scoot away home." Once she was gone, he locked the door with a sigh.

Finally he was home. He left the equipment in question where it was and opened his lap-top, calling up his emails and personal correspondence. For a few hours he sat there, revelling in the freedom to be where _he_ was the commander and chief even if he was only the chief of a few numbskulls, really cool really old technology and a big, _big_ ancient computer data-base.

But soon his eyelids grew heavy and he knew it was time for him to get some shut-eye like most everyone. Rodney shut down his computer, turned off the lights and went to catch some shut-eye. He knew he would be coordinating with Sheppard in the morning and together they would figure out a plan to defeat the Wraith once more. For now he had a few hours to sleep on it and that worked because he knew he did a lot of his best thinking when he was sleeping.

The corridors between the labs and his living quarters were dark and mostly empty. He only passed one other person on his way somewhere, a soldier who looked straight ahead, not bothering to nod. Just another jar-head, Rodney decided and ignored the man's rudeness.

Suddenly something soft was clamped over his mouth from behind and he could smell the sweet chemical of sleep in the wetness there-in. Then another thing, dark and heavy, enveloped his vision and his body was cloaked in what felt like a thick sheet. Angry hands grabbed him and spun him around several times. He could feel a rope cutting into the blanket, holding his limbs tightly in place as he was tied up like a rump roast. His head spun even faster from the drug he had been forced to inhale and when he was pushed over, he fell without resistance, his body turned to sludge, and his now watery thoughts only spreading out in all directions, gas-like and without cohesion. Everything, his hearing, his senses, even his thoughts were now only confusion and mute fear.

Until he felt the first hammer-like blow to his rib-cage.

XXX

"What the hell happened?" Sheppard demanded of Beckett who turned when he heard the military man's approach to the infirmary. McKay could project his voice when he wanted to, but he had nothing on a mad-as-hell John Sheppard. "What happened to McKay?" Sheppard saw the purple bruises on Rodney's unconscious face, including a shiner that Sheppard could see was going to be doozey once it was fully in bloom, and the thick white bandage that was being wound round his black and blue rib-cage by two nurses, one of which was doing the winding, and the other who was gently holding him in a seated position with gloves hands.

Beckett intercepted him with raised hands, redirecting him to one corner of the infirmary and out of his patient's ear-shot. "Bruising and a cracked rib but Rodney is going to be fine, Colonel. He just needs some bed rest so his rib can heal."

Sheppard only half heard Beckett's medicine-man standard "Don't worry, be happy" speech while he could not take his eyes off the bruises along Rodney's arms and those covering lower legs as well. He was a mottled with bruising, almost head to toe. Sheppard could see no cuts or other abrasions, but even so he felt like he'd been gut-punched. Rodney spent far too much time in here. "Who did this?"

Beckett kept his hands raised and spoke fast because he could see the pressure building behind the Colonel's furious hazel eyes, and the doctor knew that pressure would eventually need to blow. "We don't know but a couple of Caldwell's men found him after it was all over and Elizabeth and Colonel Caldwell are looking into it right now, so just _Calm. Down_." And then when Beckett saw that the rapid pulse at Sheppard's temple was no so prominent, he said more kindly "Just so you know Rodney's going to be _fine_, John, but he was in a lot of pain so I'm keeping him sedated for now. He's asleep and you can't speak to him yet, all _right_?" Beckett himself took a breather and then indicated a waiting area outside the walls of his domain of medicine. "So please just take a seat with the others and let us finish taking care of him."

Sheppard found Ronan and Teyla sitting in the small waiting area outside the main infirmary. It had been over a day since he'd had a chance to speak to either of them about everything or _anything_. "How bad is he?" Teyla asked. Evidently Beckett had not updated them yet.

Sheppard sat, sprawling in the metal chair. _He_ spent far too much time here as well, in these chairs, waiting to hear whether Rodney was dead or alive, or if alive, _how_ alive. "Carson says he'll be fine. Cracked rib, bruising..." The bruising...hundreds of them it seemed. Awful, awful bruises, like blue, purple and red blast marks all over his body. It had been a brutal beating, as though he had been held down and kicked by a dozen boots. "I know what did this..." Sheppard corrected himself "I mean I think I know."

Ronan asked. "Okay. How do we track them down so we can make sure they never walk again?"

"This was a blanket party." Sheppard said softly. _Had _to be. Sheppard had only seen the after-evidence of one once before and nothing else he could think of could explain the extent and the location of _that_ many hematomas, and all in just the right locations to account for something like _hard-toed boots_ striking against flesh over and over again.

Teyla had heard her commander mention it once before, after they had first met. "Are you sure John?" If true she also knew that it meant this had been a hate crime specifically against Rodney. A hatred of his honorable status of being a Sha-nu, the tribute of completeness the gods had seen fit to grant him, the gift of being one finished in love while still in the womb. Finished love, whether it encompassed sexual expression or not, was a fullness of heart that most among her people only learned as they grew and that many on Sheppard's Earth, she had been saddened to learn from the colonel himself, were still many generations away from embracing.

For all of Rodney's fright of citrus, rain and his ever present distain of all things he believed illogical, such as her belief in the gods, she knew his heart, if an overly timid one, to be full and finished. She had seen him demonstrate such too often to be in doubt.

"Pretty damn sure." Sheppard said quietly. "I've seen this once before, back when I was a fresh recruit." His throat was too raw from holding back the rage to speak above anything but a whisper. "This was a goddamn blanket party."

XXX

Just twenty-four hours out of the infirmary and Sheppard was escorting Rodney back to his quarters to spend the remainder of his shortened convalescence in his quarters. When they arrived, Rodney turned slightly wider blood-shot eyes to John. "There are two beds in my room." He said, his eyes staring at Sheppard. "Why are there two beds in my room?"

Sheppard ambled in passed his friend who was seemingly frozen to a spot just inside the door. "We're bunking together, Rodney. Extra troops on the ground and there's not enough room."

Rodney huffed. "There's plenty of room. Atlantis is huge. We could stuff a half million into this city if we wanted."

"But not into rooms with things like working lights, dry floors, undamaged walls, furniture or, you know, _beds_. This city was poked full of holes just a year ago by Michael and his pets - remember?"

Rodney groaned. "I _hate_ sharing a room. I had to do it with my sister for years growing up."

"You had to share a room with your _sister_?" No wonder the guy was uptight.

"Dad made us travel all over the country and we were always staying in hotels or cheap apartments. There was never any privacy."

Sheppard now understood why Rodney was so protective of his private spaces and his personal things, bordering on being obsessive-compulsive about it. Give the man a piece of cheese and he would bury it somewhere in his room and draw a treasure map like an over-achieving mouse. "Geez, that sucks."

Rodney saw John take the bed closest to the bathroom. 'Oh, no, I want that bed. You take the one by the door. That way if any more of your fatigue-wearing pals come in, you can deal with them."

Sheppard was quick to correct him as he moved from the one bed to the other. "They're not my friends. At least not the ones who did _that_." He nodded to Rodney's wrapped up tight rib-cage. It was probably best that Rodney take the bed closest to the toilet anyway. If the man had to go in the middle of the night, Sheppard did not relish the thought of having to help him walk the extra yards just to pee. "Are you sure you didn't get even a glimpse? Of _any_ of them?"

"There was a blanket over my head." Rodney reminded him. "Kind of hard to see through that."

"What about smell. Were any of them wearing cologne?"

"Am I Helen Keller now? I did not see, hear or smell a thing, except my own blood when I bit my tongue. That reminds me..."

Sheppard watched Rodney struggle to the bathroom. He heard Rodney shake out the pain killers Beckett had prescribed and run the water into a glass, and then Rodney swallowing painfully. He coughed a little. One of the bruises had been on the side of Rodney's throat. One of the fucks had actually kicked him in the throat. "How are your ribs?"

Rodney came out of the bathroom, switching off the light as he came. "They hurt like hell. Thankfully these pills will knock me out enough that I can sleep."

"Good. You've been doing too much."

Rodney looked at him like he had just forgotten he'd been lying in the infirmary for the last twenty-four hours. "I haven't been doing anything, Sheppard, and by the way, you're keeping me out of the loop no longer. If I'm going to be the lead miracle-working genius in this fight, then I need to know whatever plan you and the other colonels have thought up."

"I was kind of hoping you'd let Zelenka handle this one. You're still pretty beat up."

Rodney waved away his concern with an irritated hand. "Oh _please_, I'll be fine enough, just...when I wake up tell me plan – okay?"

Sheppard didn't think Rodney would let Zelenka get all the glory, no matter how badly his kidney's ached. "Okay, _fine_. Now shut-up and get some sleep."

Rodney was already lying down and he sighed. "You're bed-side manner sucks big time."

_But at least I'm beside your bed, buddy_. "I know, Rodney, go to sleep."

XXX

As plans for city defense went, hardly a thing went exactly as any of them intended. First the two ships that they had observed on sensors turned out to be two visible and three cloaked Hive ships which was another new defense the Wraith had worked out. The Daedulus and the Apollo had their hand full with the extra Wraith vessels and Atlantis was in the process of improvising.

Once the first Wraith ships were embroiled in a battle with the human vessels, the second move from the Wraith was to send out three dozen darts in a single-file Kamikaze run at the shield.

"Jesus Christ." Sheppard breathed in a half-assed mimic of a prayer. "They're trying to force their way through the shield." He looked over to where Rodney was sitting, rather stiffly upright, at his consol. "Rodney, can they _do_ that?" This was new behavior for the Wraith. Usually they would be more cautious about such a catastrophic loss of warriors so soon into a fight but these Wraith clearly had a different approach in mind.

Rodney studied his read-outs of the fluctuating shield strength, and Sheppard knew he was doing calculations in his head, projections of how weak such a steady assault on the shield might produce and doing so before even bothering to input such a request into the computer. It was just faster that way. Sheppard was glad that freaky-smart brain of Rodney's was on their side. He was also glad to see the scientist back in his military fatigues, even if his shirt was a bit bulker looking with the bandages encasing his chest underneath. "If they keep this up long enough, that small zone of the shield will be weakened by...seventy-three percent." Rodney said to him. "Once that happens..."

Sheppard said "The other darts will get through with minimal damage and then they can start beaming their soldiers anywhere inside the city they like."

Weir suddenly ordered a city wide lock down of all non-military or non-essential personnel. "Get to your quarters and lock your doors. This is for your own safety." She finished.

The Daedulus tried to make a dent in the line of kamikaze darts but there were too many and before anyone could say boo, the darts began to get through. Soon sightings of Wraith warriors roaming the halls of Atlantis were being reported by straggling and terrified personnel.

Then the lights went out. Sheppard said to Rodney. "Did they just cut all the power?" Sheppard asked rhetorically because it was painfully obvious to all that they had.

Rodney pointed it out to Sheppard anyway. "Obviously."

"How in the hell could they cut the power, Rodney? I thought we had two inter-dependant systems to prevent that."

"We do but somehow they've already gotten to both the ZedPM room and the generators main power switches. Without those Atlantis is in the dark. They probably transported directly to both locations." It was one of Sheppard's tricks: take 'em by surprise. Some of these Wraith had also learned human battle tactics by virtue of past experience.

Sheppard said "Shit." Everyone was looking at him, expecting him to come up with his own brand of brilliance and he could think of only one: the fight was about to get up close and personal.

"Rodney, I need enough power to make one city-wide call. Can you get me enough power for that? And can you disable the translator? I need this to go out only in English."

Rodney understood. Almost all of the troops spoke English as their main language. The Wraith did not. He barked a couple of orders at Chuck who scrambled to a nearby storage box and retrieved what was requested. Rodney explained to Sheppard as he worked as quickly as his pain would allow. "This battery pack will give us barely enough power for that." He managed to get down on his knees and was pulling thick wires from beneath the consol controls and hooking them into others, switching the ancient's pretty control crystals here and there and then running a thicker cable from the battery pack to the main consol parallel to where his eyes now looked. "Okay, give me one more minute..."

Sheppard didn't mind. He had at least a minute.

"Ready. Try it now." Rodney said.

Sheppard opened a city-wide channel and spoke. "This is Colonel John Sheppard. Wraith have penetrated the city's defenses and are now roaming free within its walls. I want all available military personnel to fall back to Gate muster ASAP. Those already on outer patrols stay where you are. If you see a Wraith, immediately shoot to kill, or barring that, maim it at least and _then_ kill it. But do whatever you have to and take them down. Other instructions may follow."

Sheppard cut the channel and looked at Weir. "Elizabeth, follow me." He laid a hand on Rodney's shoulder as he walked passed. "You too, Rodney."

Surprised Rodney said "Me? Shouldn't I stay here and do, um, you know - the tech' stuff?"

"How, there's no _power_." Sheppard reminded him. "Just grab your side-arm and follow me."

Once the troops had poured into the Gate room, all fifty of them, Sheppard divided them into squads of six or eight and assigned all available non-commissioned officers among them to command. It had been a while since he'd had to pep-talk anyone in uniform but once he had doled out special assignments to a few, Sheppard addressed them all: "The sit-rep from above is BUFF's but the Daedulus and the Apollo will pull through. On the ground, we all now have our assigned duties, so I want you to worry about exactly two F's: _Find _their ugly asses and _Finish_ their ugly asses. This is close quarters tactics so nothing fancy. Keep your head down and your weapon up because these bastards are not easy to kill, especially if they've just fed. Atlantis either falls today or it doesn't and it's up to us to decide which. You have your orders – go."

Sheppard understood exactly what the Wraith had in mind. They intended to take over Atlantis today and they could not allow it. If they got to the ZPM, they could get to the Gate room, the controls, Earth's chevron's and then Earth. Sheppard turned to Rodney. "I'm assigning you a squad of six men who are going to protect you, so get to the ZPM and get our power back. Then...I want you to set it on over-load, and make sure everyone can hear that loud and clear."

Rodney stared back at him, incredulous. "What? You want to...you're thinking of...blowing up the city?"

Sheppard kept his voice low. "The shield is down Rodney, so we are about to get over-run with a Hive ship's worth of Wraith. Now we do not have enough soldiers to fend off that many forever, but the idea of blowing up _with_ Atlantis might be enough to scare them off..."

Rodney swallowed hard with relief. "You just want to pretend to blow it up."

Sheppard nodded and then rattled off the less good part of his plan so Rodney wouldn't have a spare second to complain about it. "Yes-unless-no-other-option-is-left-now-get-_going_."

Rodney grabbed his arm. "Wait a second. Who's commanding_ my_ squad?"

Sheppard looked back at him steadily. "_You_ are."

Rodney's mouth fell open. "You...is...are you_ crazy_? I don't know how to command a bunch of jar-heads. I've never - I don't know anything about running a military unit plus my ribs are _killing_ me._ I_ can't-"

Sheppard raised a palm to stop Rodney's discomposed babble before he really got going. "Look, Rodney, even _Elizabeth's_ going to get her own squad so shut up for a minute and _listen_ to me. I know you're in pain but we've come up short on time and NCO's. Now these guys haven't been in combat with a Wraith before and you have so having you lead them is to their advantage. But they are there to protect you and you know this city better than anyone, so pop some of those pills and just do like you know how. You'll be _fine_."

Sheppard said it like he believed it and then _made _himself walk away. There was no other choice. Rodney was on his own this time, but at least he had plenty of protection. Sheppard left him there to face the men alone. Rodney slowly turned, muttering "This is nuts."

He clamped his mouth shut when he saw the six sets of eyes all staring at him. Rodney stared back for a few seconds and then realised his military muscle squad was waiting for him to give them_ his_ first command. "Um, hi fella's..." Rodney could feel their twelve unblinking eyes upon his every move. "Uh, well, I-I guess, um..." Rodney removed his Berretta from its holster, cradling it in his right hand and tightened his grip on the technical tool kit in his left. He then turned around and walked away from the Gate room in the direction of the darkened city corridors.

"Just...follow _me_ I guess..."

XXX

Part 4 soon.


	4. Chapter 4

**Completeness Part 4**

_Sorry this was so long in coming. Hectic weekends lately. But Part 5 is also nearly complete. _

_SGASGASGASGA_

He could hear sporadic rifle fire somewhere far away, and the unique sound of the blast of a Wraith energy weapon. Both sounds always made him flinch. The fight had already started minutes ago and if there was one thing Rodney had learned since accepting the assignment to head up Atlantis's Science and Research Department as its senior scientific advisor, it was that the Pegasus galaxy's races had a slow riding hate – or hunger - for all humans. If there wasn't someone lying to their faces while trying to steal what they had, there was someone else trying to bold-face kill them for it.

"Sir?"

One of Sheppard's grunts was speaking to him and Rodney had to tear his eyes away from the empty and dark corridor ahead of them, and swallow the pounding heart stuck in his throat, before he heard him. Trying and mostly failing not to sound irritated "What?" he said, too loudly. He ducked his body, if it were possible, even lower to the hard floor.

"Are we going to move or just sit here?"

The ZedPM room was still a few levels down and it was several long hallways over to the access stairwell. Rodney snapped "Of _course_ we're going. I'm just looking out for Wraith. We're supposed to try and not_ die_ - remember?"

But Lieutenant...what was his name..._Michaels_ was checking his own sub-standard scanner. "No life signs on my scanner, Doc'. We're good to go." He said helpfully.

"Thank you soldier-man. There's none on mine either but Wraith aren't human in case you hasn't noticed, so their life signals can be misinterpreted under certain circumstances; hibernation for example, so there's no telling what else they might be able to do to fool our scanners. Plus that military-issue scanner is so low grade it may as well be a Game-boy. "

In truth Rodney was petrified. He had faced down a Wraith before, a few times under varied circumstances actually, but he had never found himself in a position where the lives of six young men were directly in the line of fire for _him_. Sheppard, Ronan and Teyla had always watched his back but they were far more experienced with fighting Wraith than these young men, and also had come to expect him to take care of himself to some extent which he had over time learned to do.

But Sheppard, Ronan and Teyla were not there and so it fell upon his shoulders to get all of these young soldiers to the ZedPM room safely. Despite Sheppard's words about the soldiers protecting him, if he couldn't navigate a safe route to the lowest level, it was doubtful their weapons would make much difference against dozens of determined Wraith, especially if they had just fed. "Fine, let's get going."

Rodney stood up and they all followed his lead, but this time the young lieutenant Michaels took the twelve position in front of Rodney. "Hey, what are you doing?" He was the one who was supposed to stay out front and lead, at least that's what he'd observed from Sheppard and the others on a mission, and all this time that had suited him just fine. Let the soldiers do the soldiering and the scientists do the science.

Michaels shook his head, though he didn't look back at him. "I'm doing my job, sir. Colonel Sheppard's instructions were to keep you safe."

Michael's didn't sound all that convincing. "Then let me scan for Wraith and you keep your weapon up ready to shoot them, how's that for a plan – _hey!"_

Ignoring the doctor, the young Michaels suddenly sprinted ahead of the group to scout around a corner, flashing his P-90 torch down a narrow bend. Rodney quickly caught up. "What the_ hell_ do you think you're doing?" The last thing he wanted on his conscience was the death of a greenhorn boy.

"My job sir even if my duty _isn't_ going where it's deserved."

Rodney realised his mouth was hanging open and closed it. "What's that supposed to mean?"

The young lieutenant regarded him coolly. "Word gets around that you've been...talking about things you shouldn't...like statistics."

Whatever the kid was talking about, it was too vague for Rodney to narrow it. "I'm sorry - _what?"_

"I was told you're supposed to be the smartest guy around here...statistics? _Numbers_...you know? Especially numbers in relation to the fellows on the ground - numbers that aren't true. Numbers like ten percent of all of us _men_ like cock over pussy? You know what cock is, right Doc'? Word is you've been plenty up close and personal with one."

Oh great. Sheppard had saddled him with a bunch of hetero-hard-on's. The five other troops suddenly sprinted over to join them. "What the hell's the hold-up, Lieutenant?" It was Major Fiske pushing his way to the front.

Michaels shook his head at his superior. "No hold-up, Major - just discussing with the doctor here which way we need to go."

Fiske looked at Rodney expectantly, and with some difficulty Rodney pulled his eyes away from the thin veil of hatred in Michael's expression and focused on his scanner. "I can't see any sign of Wraith or anything else between here and the next level down, so _far."_ That meant no other soldiers either and therefore no extra help if anything went wrong. Even with the young Marines Sheppard had assigned to protect him, suddenly Rodney felt pretty damn alone.

Fiske waved his fingers above his head in what Rodney assumed was a Marine-specific hand signal that meant _Come on fella's_ and this time took point at the doctor's side. The others followed closely, swinging their weapons silently back and forth and behind, keeping a careful watch for any sneaking Wraith. "Doctor McKay is it?" he kept his voice low. "They explained to us what these Wraith do."

Rodney nodded. "Uh huh." It seemed the young Major was trying to formulate a question but taking his time about it.

"Have you ever seen one? Have you ever seen that _thing_ they do...the feeding thing?"

"That _thing_ – as you put it - is sucking the life out of a human being. I wish I could say I haven't but yes I've seen it." Too many times to count them all now.

"What are they like?"

"Are you thinking of dating one, major, because somehow I doubt you'll fall in love." Rodney could sling shit when he wanted to and with more finesse than young Michaels.

"Just curious, doc'." Fiske seemed to be a different type altogether and despite Rodney's cutting reply, continued to speak with respect as though to a superior. His manners reminded Rodney bit of Lorne. "They showed us pictures," young Fiske added, seeming the need to talk, "but some of us never got the full lecture. No time before we shipped out." His tone suggested the young soldier was still having a hard time grasping that he was not only somewhere beyond his own solar system, he was far, far beyond his own galaxy. His mind was probably resisting that knowledge, not ready to wrap itself around the idea yet. Everyone new to the Pegasus galaxy went through the same struggle the first few weeks through the Gate.

McKay could understand the man's curiosity about the Wraith better than most. Curiosity was his own biggest sin. "I'm not sure what to tell you, Major Fiske, but picture the evolutionary marvel of what a sentient wasp-like-Count Dracula would be like and you'll be in the ball park."

Fiske looked suitable impressed. "Can a person survive a Wraith feeding?"

"Almost never, depends but there was this one tim-" Suddenly he stopped. "Hang on. I've got a life sign below us. One level down – strong signal."

"Human?"

Rodney shook his head. "Can't tell. This thing isn't that specific."

"Can we go another way?"

Rodney shook his head, distracted by the readout. The signal was strong but – "Impossible to tell if it's one or more, it's all jumbled together."

"It?"

Getting irritated - "As I said, _I don't know."_ Rodney whispered fiercely. "This thing works on two principles: radiant body heat as opposed to the surrounding non-biological structures and atmospheric-displacement so this could human, Wraith or Big Bird." _Shit._ Whoever it was he hoped they were friendly.

"You said the signal was strong..."

"Yes. That could mean one individual or a horde all standing close together. The problem is Wraith body heat is not regulated the same way ours is, they either absorb the existing heat from the air, obtain it by feeding on their victims..." Rodney didn't like to use the word prey even though it was more scientifically accurate. He still carried the images of Abrams and Gall in his mind. "...or, when they're not hibernating, share it with their brethren by huddling together in groups."

Fiske touched his ear bug. "Colonel Sheppard? This is Fiske."

"_Sheppard here." _The Colonel was whispering.

"We're in a bit of a bind. We're above the access stairwell to the ZPM room but it's being blocked by..." He looked at Rodney as he spoke "...Doctor McKay thinks it might be a grouping of Wraith. We can't access it."

"_Well, we've got our own situation here, Fiske, and I can't spare the men. I'm afraid you'll have to take them out on your own, and if that means lobbing grenades to clear a path, do it, just get McKay to the ZPM."_

"Sir, this appears to be a very_ large_ grouping of Wraith."

"_Welcome to the Pegasus galaxy, Major. Sheppard out."_

"Aye, sir." Fiske tried to look like a stalwart solider as he turned to his men and said "Possible Wraith nest ahead. Dunlop, Kowskie and Petrillo, look sharp and take three and nine." Then to McKay "We weren't supplied with grenades. The rest of us will go first, then you while the others take up the rear. Michaels, you have our six."

Michaels tossed an unreadable look in McKay's direction but took the safety off his weapon. "Yes, sir."

McKay was about to make a comment about how he'd rather cover his own ass when _"McKay – you there?"_

McKay tapped his ear bug "Ronan? Yeah, it's me. Where are you?"

"_Coming up on your three position, twenty meters out."_

McKay glanced over and saw the tall Satedan doing a remarkably fast half-walk-half-crawl through the near darkness, his long legs eating up the distance between them. He nodded to Fiske and the others but kept his word for Rodney alone. "I hear you got a few Wraith in the way?" He whispered.

"Yeah." Rodney glanced back down the corridor. "Where's your team?"

Always succinct - "Wraith got 'em." He said and the young Fiske looked at him sharply.

"Are you sure they're dead?" He asked, "Maybe we could-"

"Trust me, they're dead." Ronan assured him, and then to Rodney "I work better on my own anyway. Still appreciate the company though."

Rodney looked over at Fiske's face. He looked ill. Clearly one or more of the men on Ronan's squad had been his friends.

Ronan took a look at Rodney's scanner. It was back to business. "Looks to be maybe ten or fifteen of them guarding the ZPM room."

"Yeah." Rodney said, not sure what to do but thankful the highly trained Ronan had showed up.

Ronan announced "Let's go. I'll take point."

Rodney grabbed at his arm. "Wait a second. What's the plan?"

Ronan smiled just a little. For him killing Wraith was practically orgasmic. "We kill 'em."

Rodney crawled after him, trusting in his instinct to trust in Ronan's. "Oh. Why in the hell didn't _I_ think of that?"

Ronan cast off his shoes swiftly and silently and made his a few stairs down, then paused and looked back, waiting for the rest to do likewise.

Fiske took up second position, leaving Rodney to move into third until Michaels squirmed passed him on his way to the front and whispered to his commander. "Major Fiske, I request a position beside you, sir."

"Why?"

"I do not wish to be left defending a frightened Nancy when I should be at your side."

Fiske snarled back. "Return to your position, Michaels, that's an order! And remove your boots."

"But sir..."

"Do it! Or you'll be pulling KP until you're an old man!"

Ronan and Rodney both ignored the conversation. This was no time to mount a personal defense against a prick; they already had plenty of those waiting downstairs. Rodney signaled for the rest of them men to remove their footwear as well. Michaels, still not where he was supposed to be, complained "We're responsible for these, they're US military property."

Rodney glared. "They can bill me Lieutenant."

Reluctantly he untied the laces and removed his boots, but instead of leaving them behind, he slung them over his shoulder. The rest followed suit. Half way down the stairs Ronan held up his fist to Rodney. "When you hear me take the first shot, feel free to join in." He disappeared down the stairs as silent as a cat.

Fiske strained his neck trying to see over the railing and down the stairs behind Doctor McKay. "Sir," He asked "what's he _really_ going to do?"

"Just like he said – he'll take out as many Wraith as he can. You hear the first blast, take your men, get down there and start shooting."

"And where will_ you_ be?" Michel's asked.

McKay tried not to thoroughly hate the man but let his sarcasm speak for itself. "Well as much as this Nancy would prefer to go out for pizza, I'll be right beside Fiske here - that satisfy you?"

Michaels' expression said _not really_, and Rodney decided to ignore him from then on. He had bigger things to worry about than a homophobe flexing his dick.

Ronan's Satedan blaster signaled for them to join the foray and when they did things went rapidly from bad to much, much worse. The first thing Rodney saw when he and Fiske made it to the ZedPM level was far more Wraith than anticipated and Ronan fighting hand to hand with two of them. Rodney wasted no time taking out the first Wraith that had its ugly paws around Ronan's throat from behind by shooting it through the head with about fifteen well aimed bullets and then trying for the second Wraith who was on him from the front, its thick arm raised to plunge its feeding digit into Ronan's chest.

Fiske in the meantime had let out a volley of bullets at anything nearby that was white and ugly and that meant he had about fifteen moving targets to choose from. He took the nearest three and managed to mow them down before four more of the spectre-like creatures were upon him and his men. By then Michaels and the others had joined the fight and the kids were holding their own until the Wraith seemed to instantly multiply as another group of their fellow life suckers appeared out of nowhere inside the beam of a Wraith transport ray, turning the tides decidedly _not_ in their favor.

It wasn't a minute before three of the young men had been stunned or their lives ended by Wraith energy weapons. Michaels blasted a series of holes in another that had almost reached him and it fell. Two more sprinted down the wide corridor in the direction of two of his comrades and one fell to human bullets. But as Michaels watched, the other reached the less experienced of the two soldiers and wasted no time striking out with one arm to send his weapon flying from his hands while the other plunged its feeding claw deep into the center of the soldier's chest. Its inhuman scream of pleasure joined the soldier's very human scream of pain as all life was drained from him, the Wraith transforming him into a desiccated corpse.

Michaels was transfixed by the scene directly out of a horror movie. He could not tear his eyes away as he watched his friend's face and body seeming to age before him in seconds, finally being reducing to a flesh-sunken, dried out cadaver which the Wraith simple shook off and let fall to the floor like an unwanted rind.

Michaels was finally able to force his arms to move, raising his own weapon and letting loose on the Wraith, emptying his clip into it until the newly strong creature from anyone's worse nightmare finally succumbed to dozens of punctures in its torso. He then walked over and finished it off with a few shots to the head for good measure.

Meanwhile as the Wraith made short work of the rest of the inexperienced young soldiers, Rodney had his hands full trying not to hit Ronan as he fired at the attacker in short, controlled bursts. Some of them hit their Wraith target while others went wide. To his utter horror, his P-90 emptied and before he had time to change out the clip, the Wraith got the upper hand of Ronan and pierced his chest with its disgusting claw. Rodney heard Ronan scream, yet the Satedan struggled against the increasing strength of the Wraith while during the same seconds his own life was drained by it.

Rodney reacted without thinking and ran towards his team mate as Ronan's wild dreadlocks faded to grey and began to turn white before his eyes. "No-o-o-o!" He had no idea what he was going to do once he reached the fighting pair but then his eye caught the gleam of something on the floor. He looked down and saw it was Ronan's long knife, dislodged by their struggles and abandoned. Scooping it up without losing more than one stride, Rodney flew as fast as his legs would carry him, raising the knife in a high arc and then, once he was in striking distance of the Wraith, bringing it down with all his might on the Wraith's arm, severing it above the elbow.

The Wraith screamed and staggered back, leaving the lower half of its arm and hand pulsing grotesquely in Ronan's sunken chest as it turned to face its new attacker. Rodney hesitated only seconds, one flicker of disbelieving blue eyes to his left told him that Ronan was already beyond the help of human medicine. A second glance to the Wraith saw the creature on its knees cradling its injured arm with its healthy one, its life fluid spurting out in a weakening spray as the arteries – if that's what they _were_ – shuddered and folded in on themselves to stop the bleeding – if it was anything resembling _blood_.

The pain having taking all the fight out of it, the Wraith moaned and glared up at Rodney and spit at him from between grey teeth, and Rodney knew there was only one choice to save Ronan's life. With eyes full of murder and hate he raised the knife once more, this time over the Wraith's still attached arm and said, "You wanna' keep the other one? Give him back what you just took - every_ fucking_ second of his life - or I swear I will hack you to bits one ugly piece at a time you bleached out fucking cockroach!"

The Wraith chortled at him in some guttural sound he did not recognise and Rodney suddenly remembered that he had disabled Atlantis's translators. The Wraith could not understand one word. Something more than words were needed and Rodney bent down and pulled the Wraith hand out of Ronan's wrinkled body with a sickening squelch. Tossing it to the ground in front of the trembling but defiant Wraith he said under his breath "They say a picture paints a thousand words..." Then he held the knife over the second uninjured arm of the Wraith and then pointed to Ronan with his other hand, making his meaning clear.

The Wraith got the point and half staggered, half crawled over to the corpse of Ronan Dex and, more slowly this time, inserted the feeding digit of its remaining hand into the already present hole. As if by magic, before his eyes Ronan gradually returned to colour and filled out to healthy full vigor of life, handsome and strong. Rodney took a moment to make sure his friend and colleague was really alive, and then sighed with immense relief as Ronan's chest finally heaved and he drew breath once more. After a few more seconds the Satedan was on his feet. He collected his weapon and without hesitation fired it into the head of the one-armed Wraith, sending its brains scattering across half the floor.

The Satedan, a man of few words, shrugged "I figured you didn't want to leave him alive."

Rodney nodded his profound agreement as Ronan shook out his arms and legs, making sure he was once again all _him_, and then slapped Rodney on the shoulder in gratitude. "Glad you were here, pal."

Rodney dropped the knife with a clatter and leaned over with his hands on his knees, taking a well earned second or three to gather his nerves and rein in his pounding heart. "Oh, yeah..." he offered between sucking great draughts of air. Trying to still his trembling legs he added "wouldn't have missed _this_ for the world."

Ronan, returned to his full physical presence and mental faculties walked up to face Michaels, standing almost foot to foot. Michaels had witnessed the entire interchange between the Wraith, Ronan and Rodney and was still staring in shock at the now dead Wraith and the newly living man standing before him.

Ronan said loudly with undisguised contempt to Michaels "Weren't you saying something about a Nancy..?"and then, recalling a word of Earth origin he had heard Colonel Sheppard use on occasion to describe someone with as derogatory an attitude as this soldier seemed to hold, he added quietly "_ass_hole."

Michaels, having also witnessed his first full-on Wraith assault on his friends, most of whom were now dried up corpses, turned his head away and threw up all over the floor, adding more mess to the gore and pieces of Wraith skull strewn across the marble, the still attached white hair on many of the pieces streaked with grey matter and fluids.

The four of them, Fiske, Michaels, Rodney and Ronan had survived. The rest of the squad had done their duty and killed the other Wraith, been killed or had chased after the fleeing Wraith who had simply decided there were probably easier human pickings elsewhere. They now had a clear way to the ZedPM room.

Rodney gathered up his tool kit, dropped while he was saving Ronan's life and said to his much reduced squad number "Let's go."

Rodney stared at the elaborate housing that held their precious and only ZedPM, their only source of energy powerful enough to run the Stargate and the shields. He tapped his ear bug "Colonel Sheppard?"

"_Rodney – why haven't you restored power yet." _Sheppard was no longer whispering but he still sounded highly onedge.

"Well, there's a little problem."

"_What?"_

"They didn't just disconnect the ZedPM, they _removed_ it. It's probably aboard one of their Wraith ships by now."

"_They might have removed it but there's no way it's aboard one of their Wraith ships yet."_

"Why not?"

"_Because the Daedulus has already destroyed two of them and the third Hive just took a space window out of town with the Daedulus in pursuit. So if our only working ZPM is aboard that Hive we are, to use your favorite phrase, totally screwed!"_

XXX

"Maybe it wasn't Atlantis they were after this time." Ronan suggested. "Maybe all they wanted was the ZPM."

Sheppard paced a small path, his hands on his hips. It was one of his _keep those ideas coming 'cause I'm figuring out a plan_ tics. "Makes sense. The Wraith are divided, their ships damaged, and they need the power if they have any hope of surviving their civil war. I'm betting the Wraith left behind in Atlantis are planning on waiting it out until one of their ships come back for them and the ZPM." Sheppard stopped and asked "Rodney, we're gonna' need to know how many Wraith are still in Atlantis and where they are."

"Yes, Colonel, no kidding?" Rodney's nerves still had not settled after his encounter with Ronan's almost-death at the hands of a hungry Wraith and it showed in his biting sarcasm. Sheppard didn't fail to note that every few minutes as the scientist talked he would search for Ronan in the small group and his features would only relax once he laid eyes on the Satedan.

But addressing the residuals of Rodney's stressed out nervous system would have to wait. _"And?"_ Sheppard prompted.

"Problem is all we have is one working scanner with a range of a thousand meters and dying batteries. That's good enough to cover, oh let me see, about two percent of Atlantis at any given time."

Sheppard didn't disguise his own exasperation. "Well, I'm sure you can rig a better one. What about the store rooms. If we can get to one of them, can you do that science thing you do so well and use a bigger battery to, I don't know, boost it?"

"Probably, but we have to get there first. Do we have any idea at all how many Wraith might still in the city?"

Sheppard shook his head. "No, but it doesn't matter because we don't have any choice. Will the scanner be able to pinpoint the ZPM's energy signature if you do get the scanner fixed up?"

Rodney drew a hand down his face to run away the cobwebs. "I'll work something out - just get me there in one piece."

Sheppard handed Rodney an extra clip for his P-90. "Here, Fiske and Michaels, flanking positions on Rodney. Ronan, you're with me on point. We're going to get to the nearest weapons and power storage, if the Wraith haven't gotten to it first, and get Rodney some batteries. Then we'll find which of these ugly bastards has our ZPM."

Rodney could not help himself. "Excuse me, Colonel but we still don't know whether or not the ZedPM's even in Atlantis anymore."

"You're right, we _don't_ know, so we're going with the assumption that it is here because without the Daedulus we have no way to track never mind capture a Hive ship. And it would help, Rodney, if you would stop dwelling on the things we don't know and _focus_."

The scientist looked suitable abashed. "Fine...I just thought I'd point it out."

"Okay then, will the scanner last long enough to get us at least to a storage room and the batteries we need?" Rodney nodded. "Good. From there, we'll work out a way to track the Wraith and get our ZPM back."

Ronan asked "And _then_ I can start hunting down and killing them again?"

Sheppard nodded, slapping his friend on one muscled shoulder. "All you want, pal." When it came to killing Wraith Ronan was their secret weapon. And if Ronan's quick verbal report spoken to Sheppard in private was accurate, Rodney wasn't so bad at it either when pushed. But Rodney had taken a huge risk in attacking a Wraith with only a knife, even if it did resemble a shrunken version of a machete. A freshly fed Wraith had the strength of two Ronan's, if Rodney had_ missed_...

When the time was right for it, Sheppard planned on having a talk with Kamikaze-McKay.

XXX

"Will this work?" Sheppard plunked a battery the size of a book in Rodney's palm. This small storage room had been found and looted by the Wraith. There were no weapons or ammo left, just bits and pieces of machinery and other equipment used in the maintenance of Atlantis's systems. But at least they'd left the batteries and other knick-knacks behind.

Rodney turned it over. "Once I figure a way to hook up the new power supply and trickle the energy, yeah." He sighed heavily and Sheppard noted the red rimmed eyes. Rodney was as near to collapsing with fatigue as the rest of them. For a brief second Sheppard draped a comforting arm around his friend's broad shoulders. He found himself doing that a lot since learning of the attack on Ronan by the Wraith, touching Ronan or Rodney to make sure they were still there, still in one piece, still very much among the living.

Sheppard hoped like hell Teyla and Weir were hold up somewhere with a lot of fire power. He had not heard from her squad - or Weir's for that matter - since the fight had begun in earnest.

"Good, Rodney, get hooking then."

"Hilarious." Rodney muttered and, finding a crate to sit on, piled the various components in his lap along with his tools, popped the back of the scanner off and began swapping crystals and pulling wires.

XXX

"It's ready." Rodney announced ten minutes of tinkering later.

Sheppard thanked whatever gods were watching that Rodney McKay had bought a ticket to the great adventure called Atlantis. Having a genius around was downright handy. "Any Wraith?"

But Rodney was already standing at the thresh hold of the storage room door and holding the scanner out to maximise its still short range. "Way ahead of you a-a-a-nd _nothing_ within a thousand meters."

Sheppard was about to move his team out when his ear bug crackled. _"Colonel?"_ It was Teyla.

"Teyla. Are you all right? Where are you?"

"_I and Doctor Weir are with what remains of our squads. We are five persons and near the ZPM room. I am afraid it has been removed."_

"We already copy that. Looks like Wraith didn't want Atlantis after all, just our power."

"_And it appears they were willing to go to all lengths to acquire it. It would seem their power needs are in a desperate state."_

"Do you have a scanner?"

"_Yes."_

"Use it to track whatever Wraith are left in the city. One of them has the ZPM, and that's our priority now. Start with the tower and move out to the upper levels. Without the ZPM no one's gating anywhere. We suspect one of their ships will be returning with re-enforcements to collect it. So we have until then to get it back and raise the shield."

"_Won't they simply try the same strategy as before?"_ Weir asked over the comm.-link.

Sheppard wished he had a concrete answer. "Maybe, maybe not, it depends whether they want to lose another hundred or so darts just to poke a hole."

"_If they want the ZPM they will have to, Colonel - where will you be?" _Teyla asked.

"We'll take the lower levels and work our way to the nearest peer. My guess is the Wraith'll want to get to the edge of the city and wait for pick up by one of their buddies. Move out but check in every fifteen minutes."

"_We will. Teyla out."_

Sheppard looked at his own rag-tag assorted squad - two young servicemen cutting their chops on their first live encounter with the Wraith, a scientist who in a crisis acted more on emotion than reason and Ronan. Well, at least he had_ one_ fighter he didn't have to keep an eye on. "Let's get this show on the road."

By the time night had fallen they were one level up and had located a small number of Wraith trying to make their way through the dark city. _Seems the big bugs don't see any better in the dark than we do,_ Sheppard thought as he opened up on them with his P-90 cutting down the first three while Ronan tidied up the rest with his Satedan blaster, putting baseball-sized holes through their armoured middles.

Fiske looked impressed. "Why don't we have those?" He whispered to Sheppard.

Sheppard answered "Because there's only the one and Ronan's kinda' partial to it." He smirked at Ronan over the younger soldier's buzzed head. "He won't even let _me_ touch it."

Ronan smirked back. "It's for grown-ups."

"If you guys are through flirting, there's a big group of possible Wraith two hundred meters that way." Rodney pointed to his right.

Ronan offered "At the end of that corridor is the exit to the East Peer."

"Rodney - any ZPM readings?" Sheppard asked.

Rodney nodded as he worked out the meaning behind the energy waves on the scanner's screen. "I'm getting a faint Low-Steady from a ZedPM. They probably have it in a containment devise – probably one of their organic transport boxes, the kind with the slime inside." Rodney made a face. There was altogether too much slime associated with the Wraith.

"Okay. We go in fast, hard and with bullets flying but check your targets, we have no idea if they've captured a few of our people or not. Rodney – any idea how many?"

Rodney gave Sheppard that _we're screwed_ stare that he knew so well. "Too many - twenty – thirty I'm guessing, maybe more."

Sheppard sighed. "Great." He looked at the anxious faces of Fiske and Michaels. "No flashlights, we want to take them by surprise if we can. You want to live through this...?" He glanced at Rodney as well making sure the scientist met his eyes before he said it, "then don't do anything _stupid_."

Rodney looked down and spent a few seconds making sure his safety was off but Sheppard didn't push it. "Let's go gentlemen."

They managed to take the Wraith by surprise and once they had cut them down to a less overwhelming number, it turned into a hand-to-hand fight with Sheppard and Ronan distracted by four of the face-armoured Wraith, the worker "bee's" of the hive while Fiske, Michaels and Rodney had their hands full with another three of the creatures.

Michaels and Fiske were both holding their own against two of the beasts while Rodney was busy loading a new clip into his P-90.

Not fast enough as suddenly a Wraith was upon him, its bulk knocking him off his feet with the force of a wrecking ball. Rodney lay on the hard marble floor, dazed and trying to get air back into his lungs. His gun had flown from his hands and was lying meters out of his reach. The Wraith stood over him but was then knocked sideways by a veritable flying Fiske who had his hand gun ready and fired several shots directly into the Wraith's skull. It lay still.

But there was no time for glad-handing as another Wraith had taken aim with one of the pillaged P-90's and fired. A bullet went clean through Fiske's upper arm, knocking the young soldier off his feet and Rodney watched in horror as the Wraith then turned its attention to Michaels and pulled the trigger. To Michaels' miraculous luck, the clip was already empty.

Instead the Wraith tackled Michaels but he managed to squirm away and was running almost backwards with the Wraith in pursuit while with shaking hands tried to ready his side arm to fire. Rodney struggled to his feet and gathered up his weapon, in hot pursuit. He raised the P-90 and aimed but the Wraith was too close to Michaels and it wasn't a clear shot. The last thing Rodney wanted on his conscience was the death of a friendly so he ran until he was almost abreast of the Wraith. But the Wraith saw him coming and backhanded him. Rodney was off his feet once more, this time stunned and bleeding from his temple.

The Wraith glanced around and saw his hive mates still occupied at the end of the corridor with the other humans. He felt in need of a snack and the young healthy-looking human soldier standing in front of him still trying to get his weapon to fire piqued his appetite. The Wraith moved like a cat, honing in on the center of his chest with his feeding hand, the center digit extended, obscenely twitching with anticipation.

Michaels could see Rodney struggling to his feet out of the corner of his eye. Suddenly the safety on his side arm, previously stuck now slipped easily into the off position. He knew he had one bullet left and from what he had seen, one bullet would not be enough to take out this creature even if he aimed between its vampire-like eyes.

The Wraith stared into Michaels terrified eyes, bared its slate-coloured teeth and hissed. Michaels looked over at McKay now swaying on unsteady feet and holding one hand to his head, looking around for his lost P-90.

Michaels choose his target and fired.

Rodney was thrown to the floor for the third time, but now bleeding from a center shot to his abdomen and staring up at the ceiling, gasping for air and trying to see through the sudden fog in his brain, attempting to work out what or who had just plowed into him.

Michaels watched the Wraith turn its attention to the easier meal lying on the floor, and then he ran for his life, disappearing back into the dark passage-ways of Atlantis.

XXX

Once Sheppard had dispatched the Wraith with a well aimed kick to its head and then a few bullets to its brain, he looked around to see how the other members of his squad were doing. Ronan was finishing off another Wraith with some well chosen hacks of his knife, severing its head from its shoulders and Fiske was staggering back toward them with a wound in his arm, his weapon flopping at his side. But Sheppard could see that the young major had done nicely. Several dead Wraith lay behind him, victims of the young soldier's excellent firing.

"Where's Rodney and Michaels?" Sheppard asked, looking around and then back down the corridor. In the darkness someone was lying on the ground and another figure stood towering over him. From the raised hand with its freakish numbers of fingers and the scraggy, colourless hair, the one standing could only be a Wraith.

"Rodney!" Sheppard ran as fast as he could and while still moving raised his weapon and fired off a dozen rounds into the Wraith. It toppled over instantly without having touched the prone scientist. Sheppard slid to his knees beside Rodney. "Shit! He's been shot." Sheppard pulled a pressure bandage from his tack vest and ripped it open with his teeth, placing it over the wound and applying pressure. "Fiske – look for the box. It has to be back there somewhere."

Fiske, his face white even in the near dark, scrambled to his feet and began picking his way through the Wraith bodies, looking for the item in question among the shadows and alcoves. He raised a shout when he found it.

"H-hey Sheppard...?"

Sheppard moved his face so he could look directly into Rodney's eyes. "Hey...hiya' buddy, how ya' doin'?" he asked calmly, quietly.

Rodney was still breathing way too fast and his eyes didn't seem to be focused on anything. "N-not so good."

It was short and free from Rodney's usual cheek, both of which brought a cold fear into Sheppard's guts. "Well, we're getting help for you right now, so you just hang on, okay?" Sheppard was able to keep most of the tremor from his speech. "Everything's going to be fine real soon...real soon..." He spoke the soothing words, glib words, any words, to distract Rodney, and himself, from the seriousness of the wound and the blood that kept forcing its way up and round the bandage. "Hey buddy, I'm going to have to apply some pressure, all right? But I gotta do it and it's going to hurt a bit. Okay?"

"How bad is it?" Rodney whispered. Again too few words, no snark, no long-winded questions, no complaint what-so-ever. It was brief and free from sarcasm and because of that the fucking scariest words Sheppard had ever heard from Rodney's mouth.

"Don't worry, Rod', you'll have a nice scar to show off to the ladies. You ready?"

"Ho-oh-k-kay."

Sheppard pressed down and felt his heart twist when Rodney let out a sharp cry. But he soon settled down and Sheppard rested a hand on his forehead. There wouldn't be a fever but it just seemed the thing to do. "You okay there buddy? That wasn't so bad, was it?"

All he got for an answer was increasingly shallow and quick breathes, and Rodney's scared, staring eyes which had not looked at him again even once.

Sheppard whispered to Ronan "The infirmary is shut down, there's no power and we need Zelenka to get it up and running." Sheppard looked down at Rodney and then asked "Think you can get Rodney to the infirmary. We'll get the ZPM to Zelenka and with a little luck get power back so Carson can do something for Rodney. My first aid kit's not going to do much more for him."

Sheppard kept his gaze on Rodney's alarmingly grey pallor as the blood seeped through the pressure bandage and began spreading across his abdomen, soaking McKay's uniform shirt and then though Sheppard's fingers. It was a sick twist of irony that in the cool of the corridor, Rodney's blood was the only thing warming his icy hands.

Ronan was busy readying a new bandage and Sheppard moved his hands so he could apply it over the old one.

Ronan assured him "I can get him there."

Sheppard nodded and released Rodney into Ronan's care. The powerful Satedan scooped up Rodney as though he weighed no more than a child and disappeared at a run into the darkness.

Fiske approached carrying the large box balanced on his good arm. Sheppard took it from him with a nod. "We need to find someone. Follow me."

XXXX

Part 5 soon.


	5. Chapter 5

**Completeness Part 5 (final)**

_Okay, slightly McSheppie but not too bad. I was able to control myself and not put these two hotties naked in the same bed. *evil grin*. Possibly some Ronan OOC but I'm still a new SGA fan._

_SGASGASGASGASGA_

Ronan raced through the halls without thought of Wraith or danger. There was no time to think of either as the compress on the center of Rodney's chest had slipped sideways and the blood was flowing freely once again, though it had slowed somewhat as the blood began to clot. The infirmary was only one level down and three more long corridors away and since the transporters needed power there was no other option but to run. His arms and back began to burn from McKay's weight and the unrelenting pace he was demanding of his legs.

A pair of familiar faces ran into him. "Teyla – need you." Ronan said as the Athosian sprinted to a stop. Weir was behind her and three of Caldwell's young soldiers bringing up the rear.

Teyla took one look at Rodney and nodded. "What can we do?"

"You can get us safely to Beckett. There's still Wraith in the city."

Weir asked, her face stricken at the blood and Rodney's grey face. "Oh-my-god-what happened?"

"He got shot." Ronan had a good idea who.

"Follow us." Teyla turned and ran back the way she had come – toward the infirmary level, with Weir and the other soldiers taking up the flanking positions.

"Beckett!"

Ronan shouted as he barreled into the infirmary and laid Rodney out on the nearest empty bed, slipping from Rodney's tac-vest the scanner the scientist has been using to track the Wraith, and then slipping it into his own pocket.

Beckett had been left in charge of a crippled infirmary – one sans power – with only two nurses and a small team of six well armed soldiers to keep the wraith occupied. As the doctor scrambled to treat the steady stream of incoming wounded with whatever time honored medicine he was forced to employ whatever battery operated equipment he still had at his disposal.

One of the nurses, using a small pair of medical scissors and a practised hand, swiftly cut away the last of Rodney's uniform shirt, pants and underclothing tearing and pulling the shreds away and discarding them to the floor. Carson and other nurses appeared from nowhere, their hands moving, pulling, wiping, snapping open this and that on McKay's body. Exposed was a small hole in his abdomen just off center, then he stepped back to allow Beckett room to work. He applied a new pressure bandage and using his hands the nurse pressed down. Rodney did not twitch, meanwhile every minute or so he would check the pulse at Rodney's throat. "Two units saline stat." And the young male nurse efficiently set to the task. A heart monitor probe was pinched on the end of McKay's index finger, and another bandage was applied to the bullet hole.

Ronan was glad McKay was oblivious and would be spared the humiliation of being stripped naked and attended to like an infant, with tubes going in here and things being applied there. Ronan had experienced it once or twice himself, and awake it was a decidedly unpleasant and undignified experience.

As Weir spoke to Becket, he backed slowly away from the table and from the people whose job it was to save the dying, taking up a stand beside Teyla who waited twenty feet away, back in the shadows, watching the proceedings with anxious eyes. Ronan said. "I think I know who did this."

Teyla looked at him sharply. _""Who"?_ Do you not mean what?"

Ronan watched as Beckett and his nurse wheeled Rodney's bed away to an empty surgical room. The door swung shut behind them. "A Wraith wouldn't shoot its dinner and Rodney was already on the ground when the Wraith approached him. This was no Wraith. It was Michaels."

"Who is this Michaels?" Teyla asked - the name unfamiliar.

"One of the soldiers assigned to McKay's team." _Traitor!_ Ronan's mind screamed while unconsciously his hands fisted over and over in his desire to wrap them around the young Michaels' throat and squeeze until he no longer drew breath. "I think he shot Rodney so he could get away, so the Wraith would feed off him instead."

Teyla swallowed thickly. "How do you know this fir certain and where is this Michaels?"

Ronan shook his head. "He ran off." His mind was on other things like what it had felt like to have his life drained almost entirely away by a Wraith and subsequently also the rush, the almost drugged high, he had experienced once McKay had forced the Wraith to pour his life back into him. McKay had risked his life – foolishly – to save his. McKay had unknowingly made himself like a brother to Ronan with that single selfless act. Ronan was a Satedan soldier and he now owed Rodney his life. Perhaps getting him to Beckett in time was the repayment or perhaps not but someday he would make certain to repay that gift. Ronan would not need to search for such a time; the time would present itself to him. All he would need to do then was act.

If Rodney survived. "I'm going to find Sheppard."

Teyla immediately moved to join him, calling to Weir. "Elizabeth, when Doctor Beckett is ready, we would appreciate any updates on Rodney."

"Of course."

Ronan said to her. "I'd rather you waited here."

"I would prefer to join you. Rodney is in good hands and I accomplish nothing by waiting here."

Ronan said it clearly so she would not be mistaken. "I'm going _alone_."

Recognising a familiar gleam in his eye Teyla stepped up close to him so her words would not carry beyond his ears. "Are you sure it is John you are seeking?"

Ronan did not attempt denial. Teyla could read him like a map. "He gunned McKay down and left him for a _Wraith_." To a Satedan there was almost no greater sin for a soldier.

Teyla nodded. "_If _that is what happened."

It didn't matter that he hadn't directly witnessed it. Suddenly Rodney had gone down, felled by a bullet, and lay prone before a hungry Wraith that was not holding a weapon but for its disgusting six fingered appendage, and Michaels and his weapons had both disappeared. "I_ know_ that's what happened." It was his last word and she did not move to stop him as he turned away, broke into an easy lope and disappeared, waving away the small squad of soldiers waiting out of earshot.

XXX

"Sheppard?" As he easily navigated the lower levels of Atlantis Ronan spoke into his ear bug. "How's it coming?"

_"Zelenka's almost got it. How's Rodney?"_

"Alive." It was the truth, and it was all he knew.

_"Where are you?" _

Abruptly changing the subject was Sheppard's way to keep his mind off McKay and on staying alive long enough to get the ZPM up and running again. Ronan understood. It was a soldier's way. Every few minutes Ronan would stop and study the scanner he had picked up from the floor near to where Rodney had been shot.

"Hunting down the enemy." Ronan knew the target would not be moving, not as the Wraith would be moving nor the soldiers under Sheppard's command. This enemy would be hunkered down somewhere, waiting out the storm like a coward.

Ronan snaked his way through fifteen minutes of corridors until he located one unmoving target. He approached what appeared to be a utility closet or a small storage room. One marked _Plumbing Supplies_. Ronan drew his weapon set to kill, wrapped one hand around the elaborately carved handle, turned it down and wrenched the door open, letting it bang against the hard stone wall. "Michaels." He said softly.

Something fell over with a clang and Michaels crawled out from his hiding place behind a collection of long and short pipes. These were the remnants of pipes the repair teams had used to run water from some of the central pumping stations to the make-shift hydroponics rooms, rooms that originally had never been designed for growing anything.

"Is that Ronan?" Michaels asked as he straightened up and could see it was indeed the tall Ronan Dex. "Thank god. I was running from a group of Wraith and ducked in here." He looked at own at his side arm held loosely in his right hand. "Empty."

Ronan smiled. The kid was a terrible liar. He stared back into Michaels eyes until the kid began to fidget, and then he raised his weapon and stuck it in the kid's face. "When did you use the last bullet?"

Michaels frowned. Blinked. "Uh, sorry...did you say when?"

"Yeah – when? Ya' got a problem with English?"

Michaels shook his head. "No-no...it just seems like an odd ball question. Would you mind putting your gun down? Wouldn't want any accidents –right?"

"Kid when I shoot it's _never_ an accident. You didn't answer my question."

"I used the last of my ammo just before I ducked in here. Just before you found me."

"I don't see any dead Wraith around here." Ronan pointed out, still never taking his aim off the center of the kid's chest.

"Because some of my shots went wide _and_ because they got away."

"I smell no gun powder in the air here. I see no Wraith blood either. No spent cartridges on the floor, no holes in the walls. You wanna' try again with better lies?"

Michaels flushed "I aint' lying!"

"Yeah, ya' are. I know what happened with McKay. I know you folded at the last minute, shot him down and then ran like a frightened dog, leaving McKay to die."

Michaels remained belligerent. "That's your story."

"It's the truth. You wanna' try and explain to Colonel Sheppard why the bullet from your hand gun was pulled out of McKay's guts in Doctor Beckett's surgery a few minutes ago?" Ronan waited with his finger tight on the trigger.

Michaels licked his lips. "It was an_ accident_. McKay...he got in the way. He has no idea how to fight – he's not even soldier. What the hell is he doing out fighting Wraith when he's just a na-" Michaels stopped his tongue in time and then said contemptuously. "He has no business being in the field."

The scanner in Ronan's pocket beeped for his attention and he slipped it out, never taking his eyes off Michaels. Three forms approached moving in a pattern that did not speak soldier but Wraith. The evident path was too straight. No proper sweeps were taking place, no incremental movements, no stealth. Definitely Wraith.

It appeared that the time had come sooner than later. "There are Wraith approaching." Ronan announced to the soldier. "Or I can bring you back to the Colonel and you can go on trial for attempted murder, for disgracing your uniform, maybe even for treason."

Michaels stared wide eyed from Ronan to the corridor and back to Ronan. "Are you saying...you mean I'm supposed to take my chances with the Wraith if I don't come back with you?"

"Or I could kill you right now."

To Michaels it was clear that the Satedan preferred the last option. Despite the fear in his eyes he spit "Fuck you!"

Ronan waited for the Wraith to appear around the corner to his left and then flashed a small smile of satisfaction to the young soldier. "Suit yourself." He tossed the soldier his inferior military-issued Beretta and ran down the dark corridor, leaving Michaels to face the invaders alone with a magazine of nine bullets.

Ronan did not feel bad for the kid, and although it was not directly a repayment according to Satedan standards, it was close enough. If the kid took his time and aimed well, he would live. If so, then Sheppard would deal with him. Or if Michaels did not survive, in the end it made no difference.

XXX

Four hours later, while fewer and fewer clamors of rifle-fire could be heard elsewhere in the halls of Atlantis, Beckett left the surgical bay on weary feet, the paper booties covering his shoes stained red and brown with new blood drops overlaying the dried ones. He stripped off bloody gloves and tossed them into a corner plastic-lined bin.

Shuffling toward the small gathering of friends awaiting news of Rodney he sighed and rubbed at his face. First the bad news. "The bullet hit a rib and was deflected down, nicking his pelvis bone. At that point the bullet shattered, poking a lot of holes inside him. I had to remove a small section of bowel and close a small tear in his liver and a few other bits here and there but at least he came through surgery so for _now_ he's stable. However he's lost a lot of blood and we're in short supply, so we're going to need donations from any who match. Doctor Weir can you put the call out, and then check with the nurse on duty in medical supply - she'll set you up."

"Of course. Anything we can do to help."

Now the good news. "He's holding his own and I'm hopeful that'll continue but he's not awake yet so no visitors." Beckett wished he could tell them more. "We just have to wait and see." Without another word Beckett turned away and walked back toward other patients who still needed him.

Suddenly the lights came on and Beckett looked at the ceiling, rolling his eyes. "_Now_ the power comes on." He spread out his arms like a man at the end of his rope. He probably was.

"_Thank _you Carson." Teyla said and Beckett just waved a hand over his shoulder, too exhausted for anything else. She imagined he had seen to a lot of dying patients that day.

XXX

Weir's briefing was held the next day.

"Any sign of Michaels?" She asked, "Or any of the others on your teams?" She asked Sheppard. Many soldiers had died defending Atlantis and hr personnel. Their bodies were being gathered and identified, although some had been fed on making the identification more difficult.

He shook his head. "Whoever is left alive is already accounted for but I've still got teams searching just in case." Sheppard was glad Rodney was still in the infirmary. "Alec Burgess was located. He's alive but he'd been fed on. He's being shipped back to Earth as we speak...for Indefinite Primary care."

Weir nodded. It meant a Wraith had drained almost everything out of him and he was now the equivalent of a very old man and would be eating through a straw for the rest of his life. "I see. And how is Rodney?"

"Better." Ronan answered, which was unusual for him. He almost never offered a comment unless directly questioned. "Beckett says he's awake but groggy. But he'll be able to have visitors today."

"That's good news." Weir felt almost at peace for the first time in weeks. _Almost. _"In other news, it's been made clear that the IOA and the SGC have dropped any investigation into Alec Burgess's claims against Doctor McKay as Mister Burgess is no longer in a...physical state to offer testimony. They say he has no memory since the...Wraith's attack on him." For Rodney she knew it was a well deserved turn of events, but it also meant that there would be unanswered questions left floating around, questions that would invite gossip to flourish, at least for a while. "But Rodney will still need our support to put this behind him. I'm confident that we are up to that task."

A knock on the door and Lorne entered. He whispered something in Sheppard's ear while at the same time dropping something into his hand. It jingled a bit. Sheppard studied the two flat rectangular metal things. He announced quietly "Michaels' body was just found..." He sighed, "Wraith got him. Apparently he put up a good fight."

"We are sorry to hear this news, Colonel." Teyla said glancing at Ronan, "Yet another death is a terrible waste."

Ronan said. "He was a soldier. He knew what that meant."

Sheppard nodded. "But he shouldn't have separated from his squad. That may have been his one mistake."

"Maybe," Ronan said.

Weir adjourned the briefing.

Teyla walked beside Ronan on the way to the infirmary while Sheppard made an excuse to sprint ahead. "I do not know how to feel about what you did." She said.

"You don't have to feel anything about it. I did what had to be done. I did the kid a favor."

"Allowing a young man to die by the Wraith is hardly what I would call a favor."

"I could have reported what he did. This way he didn't die in disgrace, plus he had a weapon. He _could_ have lived."

Teyla stopped and took her friend's arm. "Satedan ways are not the Lantean's ways, just as they are not the ways of _my_ people. You took it upon yourself to send a man to his death without allowing for proper witness or trial. This is not the way of Sheppard or Weir."

"Maybe, but it was still the best way. A man who tried to kill Rodney to save his own skin - a murderer and a coward - has been stopped. I didn't kill him, the Wraith did. I don't see a problem."

"May I remind you that you _allowed_ the Wraith to kill him when you could have acted otherwise? The problem is, Ronan, if you ever do something like this again, something about which I am aware, the next time I will not protect you. You let your heart get the best of your judgement. We all love Rodney, but there is law for a reason."

"He fought for his life and then died like a soldier should. I was lenient. Are we supposed to let killers live while their victims die?"

"Rodney is not dead and we have law so we do not start to see ourselves as above the law. So we do not see ourselves over others as the Wraith see themselves over us – like gods."

Ronan looked away. "Are you going to tell anyone?"

"No. But you must vow never to act like this again or I will be unable to trust you."

Ronan thought about it. What Teyla said made some sense but she had not been there to see Rodney bleeding out because of the act of one coward assigned to protect him. McKay, what Teyla said her people called a sha-nu, one of loving completeness, could have just as easily be lying dead in Beckett's morgue. _Then_ try and lecture him about rule and law. However, neither he did wish to lose his best friend - therefore "Okay. I promise."

XXX

Sheppard sipped at what the locals called Athosian Ale, the first batch having just finished aging in three precious barrels. It was not a bad substitute for Budweiser but without the same kick. He supposed that was just as well since the Wraith threat, vanquished for now, could reoccur at any time. The Pegasus galaxy appeared to have no shortage of the bloodless fucks and missions lately came up out of nowhere to root them out on this colony or that that one. Showing up drunk wouldn't be the best career move.

He saw Rodney enter the mess and move along the food line, looking for whatever snack was his favorite of late. Now that Burgess was very literally gone from his life, and McKay was walking around whole of body once more Sheppard figured McKay would have slipped back into his old routine of too much lab time and not enough exercise, but as far as Sheppard could tell he hadn't gained back any of the fifteen pounds or so he had lost. Rodney looked trim. He looked good.

Suddenly wondering - "Do you suppose he misses him?" Sheppard asked.

Teyla and Ronan both turned their heads in time to watch as Rodney gathered up his sandwich, apple-ish looking fruit that the botanists had scrounged from a small grove of trees on the mainland and a bottle of water and then leave again, no doubt returning to the lab to continue working on the power shortages Atlantis had been experiencing for the umpteenth time since the Wraith attack.

With soft eyes for their scientist colleague Teyla observed "I believe young Alec's near-death at the hands of a Wraith is still stinging Rodney. He has avoided joining us for lunch since Doctor Beckett released him." She added sadly "It gets lonely for all of us here at times, I am certain Rodney feels the loss of a beloved just as deeply as the rest of us."

Sheppard's eyes trailed Rodney all the way to the exit. "You think Rodney still loved the guy despite what he tried to do?"

"Hard to give that up." Ronan said, rendering his opinion with few words. "That connection I mean, even though Burgess was an asshole."

Teyla suddenly laughed at Ronan's profanity. It was out-of-character and the word sounded strange coming out of Ronan's mouth. Ever since his encounter with the Wraith, and Rodney's unique solution, Ronan had been far less irritated with McKay's ceaseless chatter, and stayed closer while on their missions, even hovering a little, but not so close that McKay had picked up on it.

Ronan shrugged. "Earth word – it fits."

Teyla said "Rodney is having a difficult time with the events. Doctor Zelenka told me in confidence that Rodney has been avoiding the company of his friends because he is embarrassed about the entire unpleasant affair. Perhaps we should do something to reassure him that we have supported him since this all began." Sheppard didn't miss Teyla's quick glance in his direction, "and I think we have been remiss in not telling him so outright."

"Yeah but you know how McKay is..." Sheppard didn't think it was a good idea to just show up at McKay's door and shout _"We love you Rodney!"_ They'd likely get a door slammed in their face while the scientist found a good place to hide from the humiliation. But someone needed to do something and he supposed that someone should be him, since he was his best friend and all. "I'll talk to him." Sheppard said.

After Teyla excused herself Ronan asked "What are you going to say?"

"Any ideas?" Sheppard was at a loss. The only thing that still plagued him was this new side to Rodney that to Sheppard seemed incredible, not because it was wrong but because it was so..._new_. Sheppard had never spent time looking at Rodney as anyone other than Rodney. Rodney the sexual being was...unfamiliar, it was like someone had exchanged his comfortable old jeans with someone else's pants. This new Rodney chaffed against the version that Sheppard had spent years coming to know and like.

Ronan could see Sheppard's uncertainty and repeated a phrase a lot of humans spoke but rarely used in answer to his previous question. "I dunno' - be more understanding?" Though Ronan preferred action to words. Actions could not be faked or obscured. Words usually promised more than they delivered.

"I've tried to understand Rodney, but he doesn't make it easy." And now there was even more layers of the man to try and sift through.

Ronan frowned. Sheppard was a great leader but he managed to complicate his private affairs without hardly even trying. In that arena he and McKay were about equal. "Then just show him."

Sheppard sighed. _Show him what?_ "I've spent the last four years trying to understand Rodney. It doesn't work." Sheppard also didn't know how he _felt_ about this new side to Rodney, the secret sexual side that the scientist had kept hidden from everyone including his closest friends. Normally Sheppard wouldn't want to know any details about another's man's sex life but this was different. It was Rodney. Rodney was his best friend and right now the guy was hurting. He needed support even if he would never admit it.

"Sheppard?" Ronan prompted.

_Damnit._ Why in the hell couldn't things be simpler? "I'm sure you've noticed that Rodney isn't like most people." Sheppard said. "He's a...a mad scientist inside a socially inept genius wrapped up in a six year old kid whose just taken apart his daddy's new DVD player. Trust me, that's_ not_ an easy person to understand." Not easy, no, but worth the trouble? – Yes. Rodney was a pain in the ass but he was a smart, gutsy, funny, real good friend pain in the ass.

Ronan was right about one thing - despite everything it was obvious Rodney still had feelings for Burgess. During this whole sordid affair Sheppard had been shocked to discover that despite Rodney's sandpaper exterior, he had a heart made of glass. Sheppard was surprised by himself as well, since he really did want to understand this new Rodney, and learn to be more supportive short of giving the guy a big mushy hug, which he knew would be immediately rejected and wasn't much use anyway. Rodney and hugs didn't go together. Sheppard was not sure what did though.

He'd catch up to him later in his room maybe. Away from everyone.

XXX

"Hey Rodney." Sheppard greeted him as the door to McKay's rooms swung open and he took a few steps inside. "Are you okay, you know, after all that...shit that's gone down and getting shot and all?"

Sheppard had caught McKay in the middle of some room tidying as he was going through discarded clothes that littered the floor and flinging them across the bed into a mesh container. Rodney shrugged. "We've both been through worse."

Sadly it was true but it wasn't the Wraith he'd been referring to. "How's the hole?"

Rodney finally looked up from his clothes-sorting and Sheppard wondered if it had just been an excuse to keep himself busy so he wouldn't have to think about anything else for a while. His complexion was still pastier than usual but he seemed to be back in form otherwise. Distracting oneself from unpleasantness was not a tactic reserved for the science department. Sheppard had often done much the same after losing men on a mission. Men not much different from Rodney.

"Fine," Rodney said. "Pretty much healed I guess. By the way I never got the chance to tell you but Fiske did well - really well during all that...he came though. I hope he gets a promotion over it."

Sheppard nodded. "I'll file the forms. You want to add a commendation from the science department?"

Rodney's face brightened a little. "Uh, yeah, yeah, sure, I'd like that."

Sheppard bit his lip. "Uh, Rodney this is probably not the time for it but..."

Rodney let his hands still but they never-the-less held onto a wrinkled tee-shirt he had been about to toss in his laundry bin. The material twisted in his fists. McKay's hands never stopped moving. His fingers danced across keyboards or twisted things this way and that, fixing, pointing, wiggling, gesturing his point, always in motion, always there in your face and making his words even bigger than they already were.

It flashed across his mind that whoever slept with Rodney McKay would probably find his body being mapped out inch by inch by those restless, inquiring hands. Rodney with _other_ people, McKay in the arms of a _man_. McKay's full attention on anyone else...Sheppard still couldn't wrap his head around it and yet Rodney had lived many years before ever meeting John Sheppard.

"John?" With a start Sheppard realised he'd been lost in thought, momentarily forgetting where he was. Rodney was standing in front of him now, staring at him with a look of concern. "Um, you okay?"

Rodney had almost died. He had almost _died_. What if he had not been there when Rodney was shot? What if Rodney had slipped away right there on the floor and someone _else_ had been there to hold his hand, or say goodbye? What if he had not even learned of Rodney's death until minutes – or _hours_ – later? The thought made his chest tight.

Sheppard tried not to meet his eyes but there was little else in the room to focus on. "Um, I, uh, I just wanted to ask you, if it's all right..." Sheppard suddenly realised there was no way on heaven or hell to ask the question because Rodney would simply ask why and why again until he had the entire thing laid out in its minutest detail so he could examine each and every component until his brain melted. He didn't_ want_ Rodney to have all those other people.

Sheppard looked at his toes for a second and set his resolve. Instead of asking Sheppard decided to let his lips do the walk. _Show him_ Ronan had said. He knew this was insane but he stepped right up to McKay, which startled the scientist, and then he leaned in swiftly, watching McKay's eyes grow wider and wider as his lips almost reached their target.

But McKay was faster than anyone gave him credit for and he sidestepped Sheppard's attempt to kiss him with two deft movements. First by drawing his head back so Sheppard's lips missed, and then jumping backwards over a pile of dirty clothing, somehow doing so without tripping or even looking at his feet. It was a mini ballet executed for Sheppard's private viewing only as Rodney raised an index finger, shaking it in shocked revelation at his suddenly very puzzling friend and Colonel. "You...you just tried to _kiss_ me."

Sheppard scratched his head and woke up to the bizarre realization that yes, yes he_ had_. _Holy sheep-shit!_ Only now instead of trying to work out why he had - to himself, never mind to Rodney - he had to try and diffuse the panic bomb known as Little Rodney. "Look, Rodney, I didn't mean - "

But Rodney McKay was no dummy. Paranoid, hyper sensitive to his physical well-being (though sometimes with good reason considering his abysmal record of repeat appearances in Becket's infirmary with the scars to show for it - otherwise known as a hypochondriac), terrible at lying and poker, a brainiac at most everything else, and, most recently, an outed bisexual, but not stupid. Dissembling would not work here.

Still the same finger in the air, but now poking at Sheppard from the distance of a safe meter and a half. "Oh yes, you did. You were clearly going for lip-lock. Think I didn't notice the vectors? I may not be the best field man around but I have a pretty good sense of direction and they were directing themselves to mine."

Sheppard stepped closer to explain but then in about two slick steps Rodney was at the other end of the room pacing a tiny path on his cold floor. "That's close enough, colonel. I don't know what's going on here but if the guys put you up to this, tell them the bisexual didn't exactly find it a big laugh. Not that the sex between us wouldn't be great," Rodney said almost as apology, "it would. It would probably be fantastic." He put his hand to his head and simulated a skull explosion with splayed fingers "hell, it would probably be mind-blowing but that would just screw up our friendship and I'm kind of short of those lately-"

Sheppard rushed to grab Rodney's arms and pin them at his side before the scientist worried himself into an early grave. "Rodney, just calm the hell down. Nobody put me up to this and I _don't_ want to have sex with you."

Suddenly Rodney looked up and paused. Then, sounding a little hurt "Oh. You-you _don't_?" then somewhat calmer, he licked his lips. "Oh, ok, well, that's good then." Angry Rodney was back. "_Good_. Fine - then wh-what the hell was that?"

Sheppard realised he was still holding Rodney arms to his sides. "I came here to ask you as question and it's not an easy one. So I'm just trying to figure out how."

Rodney frowned, as though he had misinterpreted everything that had just happened by the closet. Then as Sheppard's words sunk in he asked with a ghost of disappointment "You mean you _weren't_ trying to kiss me?"

Sheppard steeple-ed his hands and took a steadying breath "Rodney, how about you not panic and just stand there okay? Just let me talk and try listening to me for a minute?"

Since it was obvious he wasn't going to get the answers he wanted in the order he wanted them, McKay drew himself up to his full five-foot-eight-and-three-quarters of snippy, crossed his arms and said "Fine."

Relieved that the snooty McKay was alive and well Sheppard made an attempt "What I'm trying to understand is...how...is it?" Sheppard tossed a weak hand Rodney's way "for _you_, I mean, you know, being with a guy? I mean, is it good or...doesn't it sometimes, you know, get a bit..._hairy_?"

McKay stared at his best friend as though someone had very recently reached into Sheppard's skull and taken a bite out of his brain with a fork. "Other than some rather delicate examples on my chest I myself don't have a lot of body hair and I'm not much attracted to guys who do." He said, providing a simple answer to a man whom his eyes said was unquestionably a simpleton.

A crinkle appeared between the Colonel's eyes. "What so wrong with a bit of body hair?" Sheppard asked, himself not the smoothest specimen.

Now it was Rodney's turn to frown, mostly at his friend's bizarre behavior. Out-of-characteristically he decided to cut to the chase. "_Why_ are we talking about this?"

Sheppard turned away and did a little pacing on the spot of his own. "I don't ...I'm not sure, Ronan suggested I try and understand...or learn...stuff...about...you and this new side of your-your – _fuck!_ - I-don't-even-know-what-the-hell-I'm-doing."

Rodney's expression conveyed his agreement in full. "You mean..? You mean you thought if you kissed me you'd get – what – miraculous insight into what it's like to be bi'?" Rodney asked. "Wow, that's weak even for you."

"Not bi', just..." He had come this far, he may as well say it. "Not just – no, I wanted to know...I'm trying to understand what it's like to kiss _you_." _Why those __**other**__ people want to kiss you._ Because Rodney, though not a pretty boy, was not unattractive. He had big, expressive eyes, a strong jaw-line, a nice smile, whenever he choose to use it which wasn't often, and some fine short brown hair that stood on end no matter what he did to tame it. And, Sheppard had suddenly noted a moment before when he had come to within an inch of kissing is best friend, a fare complexion over a fine bone structure that lent him an air of youth despite his thirty-seven years.

Rodney stared and damned if Sheppard could not read what behind the little mad genius's eyes. Rodney sucked at lying, but every once in a while the traitorous little bastard was hell at being enigmatic. "Why?" He asked. "You're the poster boy for hetero-he-man - what do you think you can possible learn other than.._._"

Though not voicing it, Rodney had stepped over Sheppard's white lie to stumble upon the relevant point: It could only tell Sheppard what it was like for him to kiss Rodney and nothing else. The colonel would still get his answer, just not the one he was pretending he wanted. Sheppard sighed. "Because I want to understand." _Yeah, pretty fucking weak._ "Because you're my best friend." _Not much better._

Because Sheppard had come to fully understand that he cared a shitload about Rodney and Rodney's happiness and for some reason he could not explain even to himself that meant he needed to kiss Rodney just this one time and get over the belly burning curiosity that refused to leave him in peace. What did other men feel when they kissed those insolent but soft looking lips? What was Rodney, aside from the brilliant science stuff, really like as a sexual being? All snipe and sarcasm or was he, as Becket had claimed, a _hottie_? In their buddy-buddy relationship, Sheppard had always been considered the babe. But maybe Rodney, behind closed doors, was one in his own right? Jesus, was this _jealousy?_

Despite still feeling as hetero' as he had ever felt, Sheppard had begun to wonder if he really was missing out on something here? He doubted it but if he didn't find out right now one way or the other he was convinced the question was going to haunt him until he collected social security. But then how do you cast aside your he-man image and suddenly want to kiss your best friend? That part he hadn't actually worked out before showing up unannounced at McKay's quarters and it would probably have been a good idea. Sheppard felt like he was back in college on a first date, fumbling at his pants like a freshman.

"Look, Rodney, I'm not exactly sure why myself, okay? I just...need to know. Call it insatiable curiosity." As a researcher at least that was something he knew McKay could understand. Rodney un-crossed his arms, relaxing his defenses a little. A good sign Sheppard thought.

"So..." Atlantis's mad scientist said "One kiss? That's all? You won't tell anyone? I mean, you're my commander and all and I just finished taking the Stupid Bus down that miserable road."

Sheppard crossed his heart. "One kiss but it has to be a _good_ one, it can't be just on the cheek or a strawberry lip treatment."

"Huh?"

"You know, it has to be strong. Not a strawberry snack but more like...a turkey dinner kiss."

Rodney eyed him suspiciously, but he got the metaphor. Sheppard was talking a thorough kiss that completely satisfied, not a pathetic peck that left you feeling even hungrier than before. Still it made him nervous. A turkey dinner had serious implications. It meant rolls and gravy, cranberry sauce, sugar carrots, sweet potatoes and turnips. And then pie and whipped toppings. A turkey dinner was a once, maybe twice a year event, and left you feeling like you didn't have room to eat another bite of food for the rest of your life. "You're not going to tongue me, are you?"

Sheppard couldn't help the shit-eating grin that broke out on his face. This was the part of their relationship he liked best; fucking with Rodney's head. Sheppard shrugged helplessly. "Sorry Teach', no promises." But it did look like the school bell was about to chime.

Rodney finally unlocked the tension in his body which was a healthy thing because as far as Sheppard could tell the man had been near to cracking in half. "Okay, well, okay, we'll do this - _fine_." He glanced nervously to the side, just once and then tossed an impatient hand Sheppard's way. "Well, am I just supposed to stand here or are you going to start something? What do you want, an instruction manual? Just get on with-"

Sheppard grabbed Rodney's face and brought his own lips to within an inch of the scientist's, pausing, letting his breath flow softly over his friend's nose and chin and cutting Rodney's rant short but for a tiny _"eep!"_ that escaped his lips at the sudden physical contact.

"Rodney - _stop_ talking." Sheppard said and kissed him. Almost immediately he felt Rodney's body stiffen and then start to relax under his mouth's ministrations. Sheppard knew he was no sexual Adonis but he did know one thing - he could _really_ kiss.

And kiss Rodney he did, with mouth parted, tongue teasing apart his friend's lips and then entering, reaching as far back as he dared, and then drawing it out again while his lips sucked and pulled like he was kneading bread, tuning McKay's own plundered mouth to helpless dough, molding in response to his own needs and succumbing beneath his insistent lips and probing tongue in every way that Sheppard demanded.

Then Sheppard let him go and stepped back. He pressed his own lips together, resisting the urge to smack them in satisfaction. Though he did not betray the thought on his face, it had felt damn nice and he was forced to admit that Rodney had a pretty great mouth.

So that's what other men tasted when they did that to Rodney, Sheppard mused. Other men wanted and sometimes got this cute scientist with a magnificent brain and a respectably sexy mouth that would probably do anything they wanted. Yeah, yeah, Sheppard could see the appeal; and now appreciate it in fact, even if he did not share the_ actual_ desire.

Sheppard suddenly woke up to notice that Rodney was staring at him. Rodney blinked and took a step back to put distance between himself and the Colonel. "What's wrong?" Sheppard asked, concerned. Had be bruised him or something?

McKay was giving him the oddest look. The look the scientist got when he stumbled upon one of Atlantis's last held secret stashes of ancient tech' that was about to kill them all or when one day the little Chinese thing in McKay's science department asked him out in front of Sheppard just before they were about to step through the wormhole into another dangerous mission to fight the Wraith. Sheppard assumed she had decided right there and then to try her luck just in case she never saw her boss again with whom she had apparently been infatuated for years.

The look on his face had been...like now. Rodney stared back at him as though he were suddenly the stupidest man on the planet because he had somehow missed all the signals that one of his minions was hot for him. Only this expression was turned inward instead of out. "Rodney?"

"Don't do that again." McKay said, his chin lifting just a bit as though to steel himself for something.

"What?" Sheppard understood of course and he wouldn't but "I mean I heard you - thanks - and no, I won't, but what's the matter?"

"Just promise me you'll never ask anything like that again. Ever."

Something was very amiss here.

And then Rodney licked his lips and he understood. "Rodney, are you, you're not...you don't..._like_ me, do you in that way?"

McKay then smiled a bit but it wasn't his friendly, _hey let's go get cake!_ smile, it was the one he used whenever he had come to the conclusion that in matters of things that to others were obvious, like love and relationships, there was someone alive even more clueless than him. "You're an idiot."

McKay walked to the bathroom. "We're friends, John, that's all we'll ever be – that's all and that's it." Rodney wasn't even talking to him, Sheppard realised. Not facing him at any rate as he muttered too low for him to hear.

"What? You don't want me to kiss you again, I know that, Rodney, and that's just fine. But you agreed to this so why in the hell are you so mad?" The man was_ impossible_.

McKay spun on him. "I'm just saying that if you ever kiss me again I won't be held responsible for what might come after and I can't risk losing your friendship – okay? That clear enough for you, you mentally jock-strapped, Captain Kirk wanna-be?" he slammed the door to the bathroom as only an angry Rodney could do.

Sheppard banged his fist on the door. It was just like McKay to start a fight and then leave in the middle to go nurse his imagined wounds. "Rodney, did I just miss something?" The kiss had been kind of nice but it was also over and done, never to return. "I said I'd never kiss you again and that's a promise, so get your ass out here and talk to me. _McKay!"_

"Why are you still here Colonel?" Rodney answered, his voice heavily muffled from behind the door. The Atlanteans had believed in thick doors, which was a good thing if you were trying to keep out bad guys but not so good when Atlantis's boiling-angry lead scientist has barricaded himself in his bathroom for reasons not entirely understood. "You got your answer, now get the hell out."

Sheppard tried to mentally over-ride the ancient tech' bathroom lock Rodney had activated but to no avail. The smart son-of-a-bitch had obviously tweaked the tech' so no one could barge in, not even the Master of the ATA gene himself. "Rodney! I'm not leaving until you come out."

"Soak in it!"

He tried a different tact "Look, I'm sorry I even asked. I was just trying to understand something all right? I didn't mean to...to screw with your feelings." When had Rodney become so sensitive? "We're still friends, Rodney - nothing's ever going to change that." Shit! In hindsight he probably should have just asked his few pertinent questions and then left with a handshake. Only he knew that wouldn't have done it because even _he _didn't completely fathom the reasons why. He wasn't interested sexually in Rodney; he was just interested in _Rodney_. He wasn't even bi' curious, he was just_ curious_. Sheppard thought he knew him better than anyone and it turned out, evidently, that he hardly knew the man at all.

Not that Rodney wasn't guilty of hiding this new side of himself from everyone, including him. "Rodney. I don't know what to do here." Sheppard said, feeling a helpless sense of déjà vu. The last time he had stood on one side of a door with his antagonist on the other was the day before his wife had filed for divorce. "Please come out and settle this. Punch me, hate me –whatever...I'll apologise again, I'll beg your forgiveness - I'll let you win at cards for Christ sake..."

Silence.

Time to bring out the big guns. "Rodney if you don't come out here and talk to me like a mature adult I'm going to brag to everyone about what a great kisser you are." Sheppard was deeply satisfied to discover that he didn't feel a bit homophobic or embarrassed about the decision to follow through with the threat if need be. Besides it was true.

The door was wrenched open and McKay glared daggers. "You wouldn't _dare!"_

Sheppard gave him his best evil smile. "_How_ long have you known me?"

McKay moved passed him with hard steps. "I wish I'd never told you anything to begin with. I wish I hadn't met Alec or _you_ for that matter."

"Duly noted. Now tell me why the kiss upset you so much, other than the fact that I know I kiss pretty damn well."

McKay snorted. "Oh _please_."

Sheppard's eyes softened for his irate friend. "Come on Rodney, I'm used to you telling me_ honestly_ why you hate me. You're better with honesty than anyone I know." _Which is why your mouth gets you into so much trouble._

"Because it was a _mistake_."

Obviously. "Okay, what_ kind_ of mistake?"

"What do you mean what _kind_ of mistake? The wrong kind – what other sort of mistake is a mistake?"

"A mistake this is going to ruin our friendship, a mistake because it sucked which I know it didn't by the way, or a mistake because maybe you have feelings for me and this sparked them somehow...?"

Rodney glanced up, his one arm behind his back and the fingers of his other clenching and unclenching, constantly in movement like his mind. He still sounded hurt "_That_ one."

"Okay. Are you telling me you can't move passed one kiss?"

"No, Sex-man Sheppard, I'll have you know that it is possible to resist you, I'm telling you I _shouldn't_ have agreed to it and it's pissing me off."

"Oh, sorry." Sheppard smirked. "Didn't notice." But the thought suddenly occurred to him that maybe his own motive behind the kiss hadn't been so cut and dried as he had previously believed either. He didn't want Rodney for himself, not sexually at least, but he also wasn't all that comfortable with the idea that _other_ people, men and women, might want him. Diluted Rodney spread among the many had never been on the menu before. And since grade school Sheppard hadn't experienced a friendship that had grown this close.

He was a little weirded out by it actually. How had this arrogant, lippy mule of a scientist wormed his way so deep inside? When in the hell had his feelings about Rodney become so complicated? It used to be beer and movie night. Now it was what stud would Rodney be dating next and why the hell should it _bug_ me so fucking much?

Sheppard sat down on the bed. "Look, I'm sorry I screwed this up." Whatever this was. Sheppard wasn't sure he knew anymore. Could he possibly be in a bromance? "I shouldn't have asked. I just wanted to know...how you were to other men - I _know_ it doesn't make any sense...I wish I could take it back. If I knew it would stir something up, I didn't mean it to."

Sheppard waited for the explosion and when it never came, he looked up to see Rodney staring at him, his anger having been replaced by confusion. "Are you saying it bothers you when I'm with other men, or in this case _man_? Are you jealous – not for _me_ but I mean of my other friendships or-or what-not, as the case may be? There was just Alec you know."

Maybe's Rodney's lack of judgment about Burgess had been less about sex and more about loneliness. And shit if Rodney hadn't just nailed it for them both; the_ why_ behind all the fucked up emotions spilling out everywhere. "Uh, yeah. Well, not "_bothers"_ exactly, just I'm used to having you all to myself. Kinda' selfish that way." Sheppard was forced to admit it to himself for the first time that the kiss had been territorial all the way. An avenue used to reassert his hold over Rodney, to keep him thinking about Sheppard as the center of his universe, even when another man was fucking him, or kissing him - or even _talking_ to him.

The truth of that self-analysis hit Sheppard hard, smacking him across the heart where it hurt. Over the years McKay had gotten so far under his skin he had no idea anymore how to share him with anyone else. Not all his fault though. Rodney had such an emotional vulnerable-ness about him; even Ronan had recognised and commented on it. What had he said about Teyla and Weir? _That they had a soft spot for McKay_. Maybe it was because Rodney, beneath all that lip and arrogance, was just as vulnerable, maybe even more so, than any of them. It seemed incredible that Rodney could be hurt, and Sheppard did not want to be the cause of any more. "So I guess what I'm saying is I'm sorry - _again_."

McKay studied his friend's face. "Thanks." He said after what seemed like minutes.

"So we're good?" _Maybe even better._

"Sure. Yeah, we're-we're good, John."

Back to first names and Sheppard exhaled a breath he hadn't realised he'd been holding. He nodded and got to his feet, feeling drained. "Good – oh..." Sheppard added before mentally opening the door. "Early mission briefing tomorrow – seven AM."

McKay nodded. "Right, see you then."

"And Rodney...?"

"Yeah?" McKay hadn't moved from his spot and he was still holding the wrinkled shirt in his hands, subconsciously tugging at it with nervous fingers. Sheppard smiled. He felt good. Suddenly _everything_ felt good between them again. And so it was proper to mention what he was about to say because the feelings were true. The world had flipped back right-side up and the crazy motion hadn't even made him dizzy.

Sheppard stared directly into Rodney's wide, blue eyes and was struck by their bitter-sweet expression. How had he missed that all these years? _Sometimes I really am clueless_. But not this minute at least. This he would get right. Rodney deserved it.

"I kinda'...really love you too."

XXX

END


End file.
